He’s there when you’re busy.
He’s there when it’s quiet.

In conversations. In the background. In the moments you’re supposed to be present.

Replaying what he said.
Re-reading what it might have meant.
Rehearsing what you should say next.

You try to move on.

You take the advice.
You see your friends.

You take up a new hobby.
You pour the bath, light the candle, put your phone down.

And for a moment… it works.

Until it doesn’t.

Because this isn’t about discipline. Or distraction. Or "go live your life, sis."

It’s about the part of you that believes he’s the one holding the answer.