The tone of this is so wonky. I had a neat idea and it ended up getting smothered in all the words. Can't seem to get it any closer to how it is in my head, though, so here you go, internet.
Others – people who are not him – see time as discrete, each event a neat, self-contained chunk slotting seamlessly into a monolithic, eternal Great Wall. Take one out and the whole structure crumbles. What's done is done; the wall creeps ever onwards towards some vast metaphysical horizon that it will never reach.
He sees things differently. Unconstrained (or constrained ten times over, doomed to die more deaths than ever human being faced) by mortality, time becomes continuous; an eternal Moebius strip of repeated events. And, just as a Moebius strip twists and turns, so can time be shaped, changed, even rewritten.