Feelings said in actions, not words.
You'd rather fix the thing than talk about the thing. Love, in your dialect, is a full gas tank, a fixed shelf, a plate kept warm — the words stay stuck but the care is loud if you know where to look. The Eye notes: you show up in maintenance, not monologue, and the people who get you have learned to read the acts. You feel enormously and say almost none of it, which is its own quiet, dependable kind of devotion.
Get your read — free on iPhoneThe words your actions keep saying for you.