I know how to make myself happy on my own. I love and care for myself as a best friend would.

A person alone on a Saturday will eat crackers and cheese out of the packet and call it dinner, then cook something properly for a friend on Sunday without a second thought.

The gap between those two evenings is the whole subject. Nobody would say out loud that they deserve less care than a guest, but the behaviour says it constantly — the appointment postponed, the walk skipped, the good plates left at the back of the cupboard.

A best friend would not accept that on your behalf. They would notice, say something, and be slightly annoyed about it.

Use the good plates tonight. Nobody is coming, which is precisely the point.