He promised he would call me when he arrived in Sydney, but the hours dragged on, and my phone stayed silent. I checked my messages repeatedly, hoping to see his name flash across the screen, but there was nothing. I sent him a few texts, each one more frantic than the last, but he didn't answer.
As the minutes turned into hours, I felt a familiar ache settling in my chest. My mom's words echoed in my mind: "You're back to the same old mistake, doing it over and over again." It stung because I knew she was right. I didn't know why I kept putting myself in these situations, why I kept falling for people who didn't care enough to keep their promises.
I felt like I was trapped in a cycle of heartache. Each time, I hoped it would be different, but each time, it ended the same way. The pain was sharp, but somehow, I had become accustomed to it, almost like it was a part of who I was.
Sitting alone in my room, I realized how tired I was of this pattern. I didn't want to keep hurting myself, but breaking free seemed impossible. The silence from my phone was louder than any words could be, a reminder of my own foolishness.
I sighed and put my phone down, trying to push away the thoughts that haunted me. Maybe one day I would learn to choose differently, to avoid the same heartbreak. But for now, it seemed like I was destined to repeat my mistakes, over and over again.