You’ve broken up more times than you can count. But you never really let go, not completely. There’s always a message at 2 AM. A glance across the room that says too much. An old song that still feels like her. Every goodbye feels final—until it isn’t.

It is the memory you try to forget and the feeling you keep chasing. You know how it ends. You’ve lived it a dozen times. But still, you go back—because something about it still feels like home, even when it leaves the door half-closed.

“Maybe we were never meant to last... but I keep hoping one day we’ll finally get it right.”