I create the foundation on which my relationship is built.

Nobody photographs footings. The album starts at the walls, and by the time anyone visits, the part carrying the weight is under a floor.

In a relationship the foundation is similarly unphotogenic: who says the difficult sentence first, whether small promises get kept, what happens in the twenty minutes after an argument. None of it makes a good story afterwards.

You can only pour your own half. That is the honest limit, and also the freeing part, because your half doesn't wait on a negotiation. It gets laid on ordinary Tuesdays, by whether you do the thing you said you would do.