**The Beauty of Unwritten Endings**

9:02 AM—Ethan handed me my latte this morning with a half-hearted attempt at foam art—something between a heart and a blob. I laughed and said, "Abstract. I like it." And for the first time, I meant it.

Because here’s what I’m learning: Not every story needs a clean ending to be worth telling.

My sketchbook’s open to a design I almost finished last night—a deconstructed blazer with raw edges. I stopped before adding the final stitch, because something felt off. A month ago, I would’ve forced it, desperate to complete it. Today? I’m letting it breathe. Maybe it’s done. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s supposed to feel unfinished.

Here’s what’s different now:

1. I’m okay with loose threads. Liam and I did make weekend plans—sort of. "Dinner, maybe a movie, but no pressure." No labels, no expectations. Just "let’s see." And instead of obsessing over what it means, I’m just… excited. Not for the outcome, but for the moment.

2. My creativity doesn’t need resolution. That blazer? I used to think every piece had to be polished to be valid. Now I’m drawn to the imperfect—the seams left visible, the hems intentionally uneven. There’s honesty in the unfinished.

3. I’m savoring the not yet. October in LA is this dreamy limbo—warm days, cool nights, no real shift yet. I used to crave finality—"Are we dating? Is this collection good? Am I there yet?" Now? I’m learning to love the process more than the destination.

Ethan just handed someone a flawless foam swan. A week ago, I would’ve felt less than. Today? I’m sipping my abstract blob, perfectly content. Some stories are meant to be messy. Some art is meant to be raw. Some connections are meant to be undefined.

Growth isn’t about tying everything up with a bow. It’s about finding beauty in the unfinished—and trusting that the best parts are still being written.

xx Mandy

(P.S. That blazer? Still on my desk. Still unresolved. And for the first time, I’m not in a hurry to "fix" it.)