" Callum tells me he loves me dozens of times a day, but he doesn’t need to. Even if he was mute, I’d still get the message loud and clear, because his eyes and his hands and his kisses say it. The fact that he is still here says it. When he wordlessly chops peas in half so I can swallow them, I know he loves me. When I see him pretending to remake the bed for the fifth time when I go into the en suite to pee, I know he loves me. When I realise he’s cluttered up my bathroom floor with improvised floor mats—again—so that I don’t slip, even though it’s driving me completely insane to be babied like that—I know he loves me. "

― Kelly Rimmer , Me Without You