It’s Always Open

I like to picture my heart as a diner, bustling with activity and emotions, a place where the different flavours of life intersect. It is not just an organ confined within a ribcage but rather a vibrant institution embodying the essence of my being. Inside this diner, an array of experiences, reviews, and sentiments take their seats at the booths of my soul.

As the owner and operator, I welcome the patrons of love, joy, and excitement. Like cheery waitstaff, they serve up moments of elation and the sweet aroma of baked goods. The booth of passion is filled with flames of desire, igniting the atmosphere with a fiery intensity that fuels my spirit.

But among the lively buzz, I must also serve the darker corners of my diner. The corners where the sunlight doesn’t reach. There lies a booth where pain and sorrow find temporary solace, their presence a reminder of the complexities of life. The stools are occupied by scars and healing wounds, reminding me of my strength to overcome and persevere.

Wary souls look through my window, curiosity juxtaposed with caution, trying to decide whether to take a chance on what lies within. Once inside, the diverse intentions of each patron become apparent. Some seek cupcakes for a momentary escape. They find solace in the warmth of meaningful exchanges, their voices intertwining with laughter and deep discussions. Others arrive seeking respite, a place to rest and gather their thoughts before they take a flight. They find comfort in the cosy booths, taking a moment to reflect or find consolation within the serene embrace.

Among the patrons, I often encounter those who were once regulars but have since found other spots that better suit their needs. They had once found familiarity and comfort within my diner. Still, as life evolved, they embarked on new ventures, exploring different avenues aligned more closely with their ever-changing appetites.

And then some arrive solely for the allure of free coffee. They delight in the thrill of momentary affection or attention, taking what they desire but leaving just as quickly as they came. They down their cup, gather their belongings and depart without a second glance. In my diner, I have realised that these transient visitors yearn for only fleeting ties.

Amidst the cacophony of emotions, I can choose who I allow access to my diner. I have learned that not all patrons deserve a seat at my table. Those who bring toxicity, seeking to cause distress, are promptly shown the door, ensuring their negative influence does not tarnish the sacred sanctuary within.