Day 9: (first day of journaling)
Honestly, none of this feels real. The other day, one of my friends was walking by in front of my house while I was toasting a corndog for lunch. I ran out to say hi, and stood on my front step wearing socks with no shoes, the rocks digging uncomfortably into my toes, conversing with her while she was on the sidewalk. I couldn't hug her. I couldn't fistbump her four-year-old, who loves fistbumps and sidewalk chalk. He drew a butterfly on the sidewalk and waved shyly at me instead. I went back inside to find that my corndog had started to cool in the toaster. I walked back to my room and experienced something novel. I did classwork while eating a lukewarm corndog with not enough ketchup and chatting with another friend over Zoom. I'm longing for the day when I get to talk with my friends without the crackle of static over their voice. The day when I get to hug them tightly, not afraid of spreading a deadly disease, not cautious of the six feet between us. The day when, instead of facetiming late at night, they're here late at night, right beside me and equally sleep-deprived, ranting and dissolving into giggles at two in the morning. We took for granted the simple things, the hugs hello and goodbye, the clear laugh in a clear morning, and the jokes told without a lagging internet connection interrupting the punchline.
I even miss swim, which seems weird. Who would miss two hours of dying every day? I don't really miss that part, but the feeling of water underneath my fingertips, knowing with exact certainty where each twitch of my fingers will lead me. My pool is tiny and unheated, coming in at a frigid 58 degrees fahrenheit. Despite that, I spent an hour in the pool the other day, only coming out after I was unable to feel my fingertips. I promised myself that I would never complain about swim practice again, which is definitely not true, but I don't think I'll ever take the feeling of water under my arms for granted ever again. I don't think I'll take a lot of things for granted ever again.
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Journals from Quarantine
Non-FictionOn March 17th, 2020, the region I live in was placed under 'shelter-in-place' laws, basically telling us we're not allowed to leave the house except for grocery shopping. I've decided to keep a journal. I don't care if anyone reads this, I just wa...
