so I shift my attention to the third thing. And I stop breathing. Because every single thing I glanced at, grazed, examined, eyed, or even considered when we were at the grocery store, every single thing I decided to walk past, every single thing I told myself I didn’t need— every single thing has somehow made it here, inside Koen’s house.
Shut the front door. This is what I mean when I say I want an attentive man whose love language is acts of service!!
