[WP] A man has spent three hundred years trapped in a Groundhog Day-style time loop before finally escaping. The first few weeks of new days are amazing, up until he accidentally slips back into old habits from his consequence-free lifestyle.

I cannot do this.

After spending lifetimes getting to know them all, falling in love with a different woman, a different man, every day, how can I just go back? After spending lifetimes living and learning and doing whatever I want, how can I live in a world of consequence? A linear existence.

I am a performer of classical guitar, a professional pianist, an artist with mastery in charcoal and paint and a love for the human form. I am a murderer, a rapist, an arsonist, and a skilled bomb maker. And, over these many years, I have grown to love the predictability of my day.

The same day that I’ve lived over and over and over again.

The same day that I’ve lived for almost three hundred years.

Now, when I see see their faces, I think of the life that we have shared together and the things that I have learned and taken from each person. I think of their naked bodies, their darkest secrets, and the look of pain on their faces. I have been audience to at least one of those things for each person in my town.

I know about Ronald’s closeted affair with Alan the diner-boy.

I know about Linda’s ex-husband who was presently serving twenty years in prison for killing their son .

I know everything. God, the things people will tell you after an entire day of sweet talking and attention. People love attention.

Three hundred years. Three hundred and sixty five days per year. That is one hundred nine thousand and five hundred days. Each day as impotent to the course of history as the last. The only changing factor from day to day, was me.

Now, the world is dynamic again. Everything I say is remembered by those around me. I never know what is going to happen and when. Everything that has happened in those three hundred years, barring the final day before time became linear again, cannot be mentioned in my everyday life. For, to the rest of the world, it never happened.

I cannot live this way.

It was almost impossible for me to remove myself from my ingrained way of thinking. Everyday I made mistakes. I don’t even remember who I was back then, before it all started. You can’t just go back to normal after the things that I’ve done. And it’s not as if I can explain myself.

The first week was remarkable. There was the thrill and excitement of not being in control of my world. I had no ability to predict my interactions. But the novelty wore off and I am worn out.

I have lived almost four lifetimes. That is three too many for this tired man.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread