Somewhere along the way, you learned to live without her*

It happened quietly. You started managing your body instead of living in it. Feelings became something to process. Pleasure became distant. You got very good at being the version of you that functions. And underneath it: tiredness. Numbness. A hunger you can't name. The sense of watching your life from slightly outside it.

You've read the books. Done the therapy. You understood — and nothing changed.

Because this was never a thinking problem.

her = the woman you're meant to be. Whole, alive, yours again.