"You saw me in the street once.

Or least someone you thought that was me. and later that night you left me a message, and when I called you back, it inevitably ending it with you missing me.

You didn’t say it, but I knew there was more behind your voice. There always is.

You told me all about the girl and how she looked like me. And like second nature, you added that she was pretty too. I knew that was either a compliment or you trying to be suave. I went with latter and responded “Don’t act suave, it doesn’t suit you.” And you said “You know me better than I think sometimes, but it was a compliment among many.”

And there was your “I miss you” statement.

I don’t know how or why, but that was it. And this is why I always know where things end with you once they begin. Back into the past is all we have and somehow you always know the way. But I’m not that naive girl anymore and you’re no longer that enamoured boy and still, somehow you always drag me back in. Somehow, there’s something that always brings me back to you and only you seem to know what it is — as if it’s this secret little password you keep just for you to use whenever you want to want my doors to open again, whenever you want my heart to give in.

Somehow, it never fails.

Somehow, I always come back to you."