There are moments when we believe we have learned, that we have grown enough to distinguish right from wrong, that pain has been a sufficient lesson to prevent us from retracing the paths that once made us bleed. Yet, as if an unseen hand is guiding us, we return, we take the same road, we make the same mistake, and we look at ourselves in disbelief: How did we end up here again? How have we not learned?
Awareness — the very thing we trust to shield us from falling — sometimes becomes nothing more than a helpless observer, watching as mistakes unfold yet powerless to stop us. We hear the warnings inside our minds, we recognise the signs clearly, but something within us chooses to ignore them, as if we are programmed to relive the scene, as if the pain was never enough to keep our hands from trembling.
In those moments, mistakes are not merely accidental missteps; they feel more like a curse we keep repeating, as if trying to fix something in the next attempt, as if hoping to alter the outcome, to rewrite the ending. But do endings ever change when the beginnings remain the same? We do not return to our mistakes because we have not learned — we return because there is still an unsatisfied part of us, a part that continues to seek an answer it failed to find the first time. That is why we may walk back into paths that once burned our feet, cling to doors that have already closed, and attempt to rewrite stories that ended long ago. Not out of ignorance, but out of an unwillingness to accept their finality.
Awareness alone is never enough. Knowing a mistake does not mean we will avoid it, just as seeing a wound does not mean we will not press upon it. Some mistakes cannot be outgrown through understanding alone; they only lose their grip on us when we reach the point where we no longer feel the need to repeat them. The moment we stop returning — not because we are restraining ourselves, not because we are trying to be stronger, but because the pull of the past has simply lost its hold on us.
Until that moment arrives, we remain trapped in our cycles, reliving the same mistakes, bewildered each time we find ourselves in the same place again. And so, we ask ourselves: Are we the ones repeating the mistakes, or are the mistakes the ones calling us back?
• This piece is more than just words — it is a reflection of my own thoughts, a conversation with the self that continues to seek understanding. In writing this, I do not claim to have all the answers, but rather, to acknowledge the questions that linger within us all.
