Only after months would he realize the painful regrets of not caring when he should have. Of not being there. Oh to rewind time again, but how many times has he lived this September? And how many more until he was satisfied with the way she felt about him? Was this even right, the way he manipulated her; or was this just another way he was fooling himself? He couldn't pretend his mistakes did effect him, but worse yet was that they never effected her.
He was alone in time.
Full control of one's destiny didn't really mean anything.