The older you get, the more you start to believe in this theory, once a person's cycle in your life is complete, you never run into them again, no matter how close you live, no matter how near your streets, your shops or how similar your routines are. They were never meant to stay, and no force of memory, hope, or desire can pull them back now. Some blaze through like sudden storms, leaving you soaked in laughter, love, or pain, only to vanish when their time is up. Others linger quietly, shaping your days without fanfare, until one morning you notice the space they occupied is empty, and you remember they have moved on while you were still holding on. Life does not care about unfinished conversations, unspoken apologies, or the weight of your longing, It flows forward, ruthless, and people are only ever temporary arrangements of timing and circumstance. And sometimes, the most beautiful part of this brutal truth is that it teaches you to let go, to accept that some presences were never permanent, and that the cycles of people are as fleeting as seasons, as unstoppable as time itself.