We used to thank each other for everything. Every dinner cooked, every ride home, every little surprise. Somewhere along the years, we stopped.

We used to thank each other for everything. Every dinner cooked, every ride home, every little surprise. Somewhere along the years, we stopped.

Love turned into routine, and routine turned into silence. I started to wonder if you even noticed the things I still did for us—or if I’d stopped noticing yours too. Then one night, out of nowhere, you said, ‘Thanks for always keeping this place together.’ It felt like the clock rewound ten years. Like I mattered again. And I realized it wasn’t love we’d lost—it was the words. I use an app called quiet effort. It keeps me from letting gratitude fade just because the years keep passing.