From above, it looks perfect.
Sunlight draped across the table, laughter lifting into the air, plates catching the glow of a late afternoon meal. Everyone’s there — family, friends, neighbors — the kind of moment that usually fills you up.
But sometimes, even in a crowd, there’s a small stillness you can’t quite shake. The chair beside you feels a little too empty. The porch feels a little too bright. You realize — it’s your ESA’s spot.
They’re the quiet kind of company. The ones who don’t need a glass poured or a story told to belong. They just are. Steady. Grounded. The heartbeat that slows yours.