And she ate it, then asked if I was the new cook. …

And I spent hours, HOURS, on it, sourcing the beans, rendering the duck fat, slow cooking the sausage until it was perfect, golden, bubbling, because I wanted her to see me, to *really* see me, not… …

I just keep seeing that empty spot on the sofa where her art supplies used to be, and it’s just SO quiet now, like the whole building is holding its breath because her music isn't blaring anymore and… …

Am I the only one who suddenly has all this quiet and nowhere to put the old self, and then you say the wrong thing, always the wrong thing. …