Time may be the best writer of all. It always finds the ending no one else could write properly. In writing, we fight for structure, polish, meaning, closure. We rewrite scenes, sharpen lines, move paragraphs around, trying to force the perfect last sentence into place. And then time comes in quietly and does what we cannot. It gives things distance, weight, irony, loss, clarity. Sometimes it ruins the ending we wanted. Sometimes it saves the one we almost missed. But in the end, it is usually time that writes the final version.