I used to think you were the worst roommate. Leaving dishes in the sink, hogging the bathroom, forgetting to text me back about bills.

I used to roll my eyes every time you asked if I’d eaten, or when you reminded me to take a jacket. I thought you were just nagging.

I never realized those little things were love—until I moved out, and suddenly no one was there to do them. I didn’t notice how the fridge was always full, how the bills were always paid on time, how my laundry somehow got folded while I was at school. I thought it was just life happening. But it was you, carrying the weight so I could feel free. And now, when I see you quietly doing those same things—watering the plants, cooking even when you’re tired, fixing the small stuff around the house—I stop and say thank you. Because I finally get it. I use an app called quiet effort. It keeps me from forgetting how much you’ve always done for me.