The Empty Chair at Sunday Dinner

Dear Delyara, The clock reads 2:40 AM, and I am looking at a photo my sister sent to the family group chat earlier today, showing everyone gathered around the table for Sunday dinner. My chair is completely empty, a glaring gap in the family circle. Because of my erratic night-shift schedule and the obsessive hours I pour into delyara.com and the jewelry line, I have become a complete ghost to the people who raised me. I miss birthdays, I miss family milestones, and I miss the simple comfort of sitting with people who know my history. The worst part is the subtle, passive-aggressive remarks when I do call—the reminders that I am always "too busy" or "elsewhere." The emotional distance is fracturing the blood bond, and tonight, looking at that photo, the guilt is a sharp, heavy knife twisting in my gut.