a lil’ of everything I care about
Precise Love Language
A flu passed from him to me, and somehow became a small study of love languages. Water, cut pears, laundry, soup, and bedtime reminders. The unglamorous little things that make a relationship.
Reclaiming Something
A persistent low mood made me realise how much of my life had quietly become tangled with work. But somewhere between a supportive conversation, and soup in a mini pressure cooker, I felt a little lightness return. Maybe this is escapism. Maybe this is me finding my way back to myself.
You’re invited
If something here sparked a thought, come tell me.
Could be a comment, a recommendation, an idea, or even a disagreement.
Or something you think I should explore next.