Autumn was about to write its story on the leaves, and the stars whispered as if they were keeping an old promise. That day, you looked like paradise in a summer dress, and I was oblivious to the magnitude of the love in my hands. I left you at the door, thinking that distance would extinguish the pain... but it only made me burn with greater regret. Since that day, I have been going back in my memory, closing my eyes and holding you, and saying the words I did not say then: "I am sorry." I do not want to replay the scene of the farewell, but rather I want to start the story from the middle, from where hearts still beat. I will open the doors of my memory to you—the room of pictures, the door of meeting, the garden of green grass—not to say goodbye, but to begin again. This time, I will not argue, I will not hide behind pride, I will listen, learn, and fix. I ask for one more chance... not just to be with you, but to be the person you deserved from the beginning. Here, we will walk together through the door that was a goodbye to become a beginning, and we will let autumn witness that the stars still know our names. Give me a chance to love each other again