Table for 1
As I slurp every noodle in my udon bowl, I can’t help but reminisce about all the years I spent eating alone. Well, if I’m being honest, there’s no need for me to feel nostalgic about my solo dates, because as I write this essay, I am still dining at a restaurant all by myself.
“Table for one, please.” My go-to conversation starter to a waiter each time I enter a restaurant.
What’s ironic is that, despite how clear it is that I’m just a single person, I tend to gravitate towards a large table to occupy it by myself. I know this may be disrespectful, especially during busy hours, but I also make sure to order meals that serve at least 2–3 people. Originally, I practiced this behavior to justify occupying a table that could accommodate up to four people, alone.
Recently, I began to wonder if that’s the real reason for my splurge during my solo dates. Perhaps it’s because I refuse to feel penniless and forlorn at the same time. At least ordering a feast while soloing a huge table to indulge myself cancels out the melancholia.
Furthermore, it’s important to note that my isolation does not end in restaurants. I am a solitary person who eats alone, lives alone, sleeps alone, and attends a Doctor’s appointment without a guardian. I always have no one to keep me company; I am detached from everything.
However, despite complete isolation, you’ll inevitably meet people. And as far as this saying goes: In life, you will run into someone who will teach you lessons you never knew you needed. They will challenge your beliefs, and they will unlock a version of you that never before existed — yeah, that’s true.
I met a boy who’s usually the star of every gathering; he’s my MVP. Everyone adores him, and you can see it in the way his friends surround him.
Considering that his extroversion is the polar opposite of my tameness, of course, there are viewpoints in life in which we do not see eye to eye.
This boy said he’s willing to wait for someone to be available rather than do things alone. Honestly, I’ve been told that countless times by different faces, but I never paid attention to their claims until this conversation I had with him:
“What if you want to go somewhere but no one’s available to go there with you?” I asked.
“I’ll wait for when they’re finally free to come with me.” He responded.
“What if they’ll never have the time? You’ll seriously postpone your plans just because you refuse to go somewhere alone?” I rebutted, shocked.
“Yes, because it’s much better to do things together.” He answered without a second thought.
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Flabbergasted is the right term to describe my reaction after I heard him say that with his full chest.
I can’t relate.
For years, whenever I feel rejected, I go out for a nice lunch/dinner to remind myself that I’m fully capable of enjoying life without someone else’s company. It’s how I protect my heart from shattering, and it works well at keeping me grounded.
But today, sometime in October 2026, as I’m sitting at a huge table in a restaurant called Marugame Udon, instead of enjoying the comfort of my independence, I feel mostly… isolated.
Though this isn’t the kind of solitude that used to haunt me when I was 18, I don’t feel unloved at this moment because I see the overwhelming presence of platonic and familial love around. Yet, despite the assurance, I can’t help but notice the empty seat in front: The absence of a partner who’s willing to be vulnerable with me. The missing hand that should’ve been wiping the sauce off my face, and the absence of sweet laughter in response to my jokes.
I can’t even come up with a joke now. What for? I’m all alone.
I stare hopelessly at the large bowl of Udon that I’m struggling to finish since I’m already full. What’s infuriating is that I have to force myself to swallow every bite because no one’s around to finish it for me, and it’s unacceptable in this economy to waste an expensive meal.
What a lonesome life, it seems.
Who would’ve thought that by teaching myself how to sit comfortably alone, I’m also preventing another plate from joining my feast?
Because of this godforsaken Curry Udon, I’ve accepted defeat and recognized that the boy was right. It’s so much better to experience life with a partner.
After years of constructing this wall brick by brick, I now recognize how high I’ve built it. It’s unnecessarily complicated and extremely dangerous to climb. What’s funny is that the original purpose of this wall was to safeguard what’s hiding inside: My heart. But now, I see that its duty has shifted from defense to imprisonment.
I’m guilty as charged for what I’ve become: Unworthy.
Unworthy of approaching a waiter to ask, “Is there any available table for two?”
Still, I believe that someday a miracle will happen when love shows up to invite me to sit together and share a meal. And most of all, just like this MVP boy said before he decided to leave me behind: the next man who enters my life will be worthy of my love and tears.
But for now, I’m a prisoner of table for one, as I’ve been for almost three years. I see that completely.
