What's Her Name

It had been a significant amount of time, four long years, since I had last laid my eyes on her. The passing years had given me ample time to process and move on from the past, but it seemed like I was stuck in a rut. Despite all that time, I still found myself consumed by thoughts of her, unable to shake her memory from my mind.
It was almost ironic - or perhaps even tragic - that the reason for my inability to let go was because of her bust. It played on my mind and reminded me of all the moments we'd shared together. But it wasn't just that; it was also the undeniable connection we once shared.
I often found myself plagued by one question: what is her name? It was as if that information held some sort of power over me, as though knowing it would provide closure or make everything okay again. Yet somehow, despite all these years, I still couldn't recall it.
In a way, the passage of time seemed meaningless when it came to matters of the heart. Four years may have gone by, but she remained firmly lodged in my thoughts and memories.