Eating Alone

When I moved to the city, I didn't know anyone, so I ate every meal alone. At first this was embarrassing. I felt that everyone in the warung was looking at me — the girl with no friends. I ate fast and looked at my phone.

After a few weeks, something changed. I noticed other people eating alone too: an old man with a newspaper, a woman in a nurse's uniform, a student with a book. Nobody was looking at anybody. Everyone was just eating.

Now I enjoy it. I choose a table by the window, order slowly, and actually taste the food. Sometimes I talk to the owner. Sometimes I don't talk at all. Eating alone isn't sad. It's an hour that belongs only to me.