The Comfort of Not Knowing**

9:04 AM—Same blazer (yes, still Liam’s), same ripped jeans, same black coffee with oat. Same Ethan, same nod, same "Morning." But today? I didn’t just notice it. I didn’t just accept it. I liked it.

Because here’s the thing: I used to think growth was about answers. Now I’m realizing it’s about being okay with the questions.

1. I’m obsessed with the unsolved. That phase where I needed every outfit to mean something? Exhausting. The rebellion where I refused to wear anything with intention? Also exhausting. But this? This is just… wearing clothes. No manifesto. No statement. Just me, in a blazer that isn’t technically mine, feeling at home in my own skin.

2. My creativity is learning to sit with uncertainty. That terrible cartoon of Ethan? Still up. Still makes me laugh. But this morning, I didn’t feel the need to add to it or justify it. It’s just… there. And so am I.

3. I’m falling in love with the space between knowing and not knowing. Liam didn’t text. Didn’t ask about the blazer. Didn’t demand an explanation. And for once, I didn’t need him to. Because some things don’t need resolution. Some things just need room.

Ethan handed me my coffee—black, splash of oat—and our eyes met for half a second longer than usual. "You good?" he asked. I smiled. "Yeah. You?" He shrugged. "Getting there."

No urgency. No pressure. Just… honesty.

And maybe that’s the real evolution—not in the answers, but in the questions we let ourselves live in.

xx Mandy

(P.S. That blazer? Still here. Still his. Still mine. Still unresolved. And for once? That’s kind of perfect.)