What broken things teach you

Three months later, I still catch myself checking the thermostat twice before leaving the apartment.

What broken things teach you

The heating crisis feels like ancient history now, but the way Jake and I handled those freezing February nights taught me something I’m still processing.

We didn’t fight. That’s what keeps surprising me. Two weeks of bundling under every blanket we owned, making endless calls to landlords and repair services, sleeping in layers - and we never once snapped at each other. Instead, Jake researched space heaters while I tracked down emergency numbers. I made hot chocolate at midnight; he figured out how to seal the drafty windows with towels. We became this efficient little team without even discussing it.

The view from our kitchen window never gets old.

Maybe that’s what partnership actually looks like - not grand gestures or perfectly planned anniversaries, but knowing without words who handles which crisis. Jake’s the researcher; I’m the action person. He finds solutions; I implement them. We both complain about landlords, but we take turns doing it so the other person can stay positive.

It’s funny how broken things reveal what actually works.