I finally left my favorite restaurant. Not because I didn't love the food, but because it felt like there was no effort anymore. The meals started coming out cold, sometimes already picked at, like no one really cared how it got to me. I kept telling myself, "maybe next time it'll be better," but next time always felt the same. And it's sad because you remember how good it used to be, how it used to feel worth it. At some point, you just get tired of hoping. Tired of showing up and leaving a little disappointed every time. So you stop making excuses for it and just accept that it changed. I'll still check the menu for sure, but I won't be going back.