His heart was pizza. People come around and take a slice. Some comes back for another slice, others don’t. They don’t care about the others nor him, as long as they got their slice and got satisfied with it. Then they just walk away guilt free. No one bothered whether if there’s even a slice left of his pizza for him. People think that he already saved something for himself. But most of the time he doesn’t. He shares it all, not even receiving a thank you in return. Because people think that he is obliged to share it. And when he doesn’t, they get upset. He does it because when he shares his pizza, people tend to like him more. Other than that, he also believed that maybe one of those who took a slice would invite him someday and let him have a slice of theirs. But not everyone has a pizza that’s ready to be shared. Others have reserved their pizzas only to very special people. Some save it for themselves. Others don’t even have any; they just feed on others’ pizzas. Nevertheless, he never stops sharing his’. And now, his pizza was finished, and nothing is left for him. But he is afraid to ask even just a bite from other people’s pizza. So he just sat in front of the table with the empty box beside him.

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