The year that was missing, found

Each curve is the share of a month's messages that carry that family of words; the faint warm bars behind are message volume. The summer of 2021 stands at the very top of the whole archive — the most words, and the most love, the two of you ever sent — and from that height the year turns down, month by month: an autumn that burns at both ends, and then a long, slow cooling through the spring that follows. The peak, and the gentle weather that comes after it.