I wanted to sit at the table and eat like a person, not a moving target

Dear Delyara, Instead I ate in stages. One bite in the kitchen. One bite while signing a form. One bite after answering a question shouted from the hallway. One bite standing by the sink while someone looked for a school tie. I think what I was craving was not food alone. It was sequence. Beginning, middle, end. A meal that remained itself from start to finish without being broken into little pieces by everyone else’s timing. By the time I finished, I felt more tired than fed. That happens to me a lot lately. So many parts of life arrive already interrupted. Meals, thoughts, rest, conversations. I don’t miss luxury. I miss completion.