I ate in the car because it was the only private room available to me

Dear Delyara, Not glamorous. Just true. I had fifteen minutes between one errand and the next, and I realised if I went home, those fifteen minutes would dissolve instantly into questions, jobs, and movement. So I stayed in the car with a sandwich and a bottle of water and made that small metal box into a temporary country with no citizens besides me. It was strange how much relief I felt. I think some parts of my life are so continuously shared that privacy now feels medicinal. Not luxurious, not selfish, not dramatic — medicinal. A little patch of unentered air where I can chew slowly, finish a thought, and not be responsible for the emotional weather of anyone else. I didn’t know I needed that as much as I did until I had it.