I twist and turn in the bed as the fan keeps making the strange sound. 

We’ve had this fan for months now, and it’s the first time I’m noticing the sound. Bizarre.

Now that I have nothing in the house, sounds and visuals like these keep coming up. The fridge also makes a continuous squeaky sound. The extension board sparks when you put the pin in. The bright light from Elena’s window illuminates the dark kitchen if the rusty window is open. There’s a hammer on the stairs. It’s always been there. I kept it there I don’t know when, or for what reason.

It eats me. It eats me that everything is just a little more difficult. Every task, every moment, every meal, every walk, every movie, every song, every book, every single line of code. It’s not impossible. Just an order of magnitude more difficult.

With her, every task is fun— no matter how excruciating it is. Every moment is filled with emotion— laughter, peace, anger, sadness, you name it. Every meal feels like home. Every walk adds clarity. Every movie makes me think. Every song makes me want to sing. Every book fulfils my curiosity. Every line of code is explanation for her in simple words.

With her, nothing is difficult.

She is the common denominator in my life.

Everything falls in place when she’s here.

I miss her. 

I’ll twist and turn again, as I try to sleep. 

She’s my last thought before I drift into this headache. She’ll be my first thought when I wake up in the morning (hopefully) without it.

My common denominator.