It feels like a cruel déjà vu, like I’ve been dropped into the past without warning, forced to relive a pain I thought I had outgrown. Five years ago, I carried this same weight, felt this same emptiness creeping in. I told myself I had survived it, that I had walked away from it stronger. But now, as I stand in the ruins of something eerily familiar, I wonder if I ever truly left.

Maybe I was never free. Maybe I just found new ways to distract myself, to bury the echoes of that old sorrow under fleeting moments of peace. But pain is patient. It waits. And now, it has found me again, whispering the same haunting questions: Why does this keep happening? Why am I still here?

I had hoped that time would heal me, that I would look back at the past with nothing but distant understanding. But here I am, not as a spectator, but as a prisoner to the same struggle. It makes me wonder, am I destined to repeat this suffering forever? Or is there something I failed to learn, something unfinished that life is forcing me to face again?

I don’t know the answer. All I know is that I’m tired. Tired of fighting battles that refuse to end. Tired of hoping that this time will be different. Tired of watching the past seep into the present like ink on fragile paper.

Maybe one day, I’ll understand why this cycle keeps pulling me back. But right now, all I can do is endure.

Again.