The mug I finally stopped breaking

Found it this morning—chipped, pale blue, handle slightly loose. Not the one I used for years, the one I’d drop in frustration after bad news. This one survived a decade of hospital corridors and midnight calls. Today, I filled it with tea and just… looked at it. The crack runs through the rim like a fault line. I didn’t try to fix it. I let it be. Sometimes the thing you carry isn’t meant to be whole. Just usable.