You say the nicest words.
In the depths of my despair, in the midst of my self doubt, you recalled to me the story of the Three Musketeers, a reference I found so startling, and so connected to the story I had told you that it shook me entirely of that depressive spiral I was in.
You told me stories the same way my family once did as a child, and it brought back memories of those times, memories of feeling protected and cherished.
You connect me to the bridges of my past, to the transient phases of my present.
I appreciate that, I really do.
The nicest words, the nicest phrases often come in the most unexpected of moments, at times when you need it the most.
God has a way of highlighting those times.
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