@re-joyce 2 January 2025 more from that month

I already left the restaurant— no longer waiting for a table or a menu. I stayed long enough, hoping there was a seat for me, but I knew— there’s no seat reserved for me here. I could have waited longer, but waiting for something that isn’t mine would only keep me starving for something that was never meant to feed me. Sometimes, staying feels heavier than leaving the place that’s no longer yours. So I chose to go, and maybe, somewhere else, there’s a table set just for me.