Don’t Paint Me in The Colors of Your Past

What if our relationships are not grounded in love, but instead are reflections of familiar wounds that keep circling back, asking to be seen, asking to be healed? What if what we call a “new beginning” is often a reenactment of a past we can’t seem to escape?

Intimacy does not always arrive as growth or progress; sometimes it comes wrapped in the soft fog of déjà vu, in patterns we have unknowingly claimed as destiny.