Some bonds fray but never truly break. Time may stretch the distance, silence may fill the spaces where laughter once lived—but the heart remembers. Not in the loud, desperate way it once did, but in something quieter. Gentler. Like a familiar song playing in another room.

When you meet again, it’s not where you left off—it’s somewhere softer, quieter, older. The sharp edges have dulled, and the anger has long since burned out. It’s not about reliving the past, but learning how to carry it without letting it weigh you down.

You both look different now. There’s more in your eyes—loss, growth, understanding. You speak less, but the silence between you holds more meaning than words ever could.

It’s no longer about picking up the pieces but learning to hold them differently. With care this time. With the knowledge of what once broke you and the will to never let it happen again.

And somehow, despite the time, the pain, and the parts of yourselves you thought you'd never share again—you’re still standing in front of each other. Choosing, again.

“I never stopped waiting for the version of us that could finally stay.”