Nothing It Broke Ever Stayed Broken

About this piece

Every time it fell, the floor mended itself behind it. Every crack, every hole, gone as if nothing had happened.

So it fell harder. It split in three and found its way back to one, fell sideways, got shut inside a room with no door. At the end there was nothing left to break, and not one piece was missing.

I can't decide what this one is about. Stubbornness? Forgiveness? The people who quietly fix whatever you break? Tell me what you saw.