It starts as this quiet, nagging thought, like a song you don’t remember putting on repeat. A memory, a moment—just a split second of them laughing at something dumb you said, or the way their hand felt absentmindedly resting on your knee. And before you even register it, you’re spiraling down that rabbit hole.

The heart is messy, irrational. (Downright annoying, really.) It holds on when logic screams, “Let it go.” But what if—what if it doesn’t have to be over? What if there’s still a thread of something left to pull? Not a desperate, reckless grasping for the past but a slow, deliberate unraveling of what went wrong—so you can weave something new, something stronger.

Getting back with an ex is a puzzle. No, scratch that, it’s more like one of those escape rooms where every clue is hidden in plain sight, but you still have to twist your perspective to see it. They didn’t leave just because of one bad fight or a single moment of weakness. It’s deeper than that—something silent and insidious, a crack that spread until it shattered. So what was it? Indifference? Exhaustion? A feeling they couldn’t quite put into words but lived with every single day?

Understanding that is step one. But the real magic? It happens when you don’t just “figure it out” but actually change—not just for them, but for you. It’s not about proving something or launching a grand romantic stunt (although, okay, sometimes those work in movies). It’s about becoming the version of yourself that even you can’t ignore.

Pride. Ego. Stubbornness. (Oh, the trifecta of emotional sabotage.) If you let any of them steer the wheel, you’ll crash before you even start. So yeah, swallow that pride, just a little. Reflect on the things you’d rather brush aside—your tone in arguments, your priorities, the way you showed (or didn’t show) appreciation. Let that truth sink in before you even think about reaching out.

And speaking of reaching out—do not, I repeat, do not text something generic like, “Hey, how have you been?” That’s not intrigue. That’s a digital yawn. Instead, say something that makes them want to reply, something that piques curiosity without screaming, “I’m trying to win you back!” Like, “Just passed that coffee shop where you completely annihilated me at chess. I maintain that I let you win.” It’s light, easy, and—most importantly—it doesn’t reek of desperation.

But hey, what if they’ve moved on? That thought—ugh, it burns, doesn’t it? But let’s be real: attraction, connection, history… these things don’t just evaporate overnight. Even if they’re dating someone else, even if they’re posting suspiciously happy pictures, that doesn’t mean they’re not thinking about you. People compare. They wonder. They replay things in their head, just like you do. (And don’t even get me started on social media stalking—we all do it.)

If you really want to shift the dynamic, the best move might not be a move at all. Stay still, but make noise. Become someone worth watching—post that new adventure, start that passion project, live in a way that forces them to see you through a different lens. When they look at you, it shouldn’t feel like rewinding the past—it should feel like discovering a plot twist they never saw coming.

And here’s the kicker: sometimes, when you do all this, you realize you don’t actually want them back—you just wanted to feel wanted again. Or maybe, just maybe, you become someone so undeniably magnetic that they come back on their own. And if they do? Well, this time, you’ll be ready.