Please Forget Me at the End of Dusk

The day I finally saved up a hundred sleeping pills, I hid outside the crowd of guests at the Intercontinental Hotel, wanting only to see Isabel in her wedding dress one last time before I died, from far away. The phone in my pocket buzzed. Through the speaker came my own voice from five years ago. "Today is Isabel's birthday. I'm going to propose to her." The younger me was laughing, full of spirit. "Five years from now, did I marry her? Do we have kids?"