Alone

I know it's a bad idea to send this message, but I do it anyway.

I need a distraction. It's 1 am on a Friday night, and it's the third day in a row I wake up at this time. Outside, the streets are quiet and empty, and my heart feels heavy. For an always buzzing city like New York, this isn't normal.

Three weeks ago, I would have laughed at the idea of being home on a Friday night, but everything is different now. Every time I step outside, I hold my breath for as much as I can. My hands start to sweat as I reach the building's door and reaching the grocery shop around the corner seems as complex as an algebra equation. You can't touch the doorknob. You must sanitize your hands. You must keep your distance. The new normal is not about looking pretty. It's about staying safe.

Every trip to the grocery shop is like a constant battle against an invisible enemy: a disease you can't see, but it's there, just waiting for you to touch your face. It's draining.

Being in quarantine makes you do weird stuff. Like, baking every cookie recipe that comes to mind, or writing to your ex to see how he's doing after a year of not hearing from him...

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I sit cross-legged on the floor across Pete, my beta fish. He's at the bottom of his small aquarium, probably sleeping. I have the urge to tap on the glass to wake him up, but I know I'm just desperate for contact with any living thing. It's not like Pete gives a crap anyway.

My phone dings, and the screen lights up through the darkness in the room. Could it be Mike? For the short time we lived together, he was a night-owl. I guess some things didn't change. My pulse starts to race as I grab the phone and unlock the screen. It is a message from his number, but it takes me a moment to understand who wrote it.

Dear Amy, I'm sorry, but I don't know who Mike is. I got this number three months ago. While I understand your message was for Mike, who I am assuming is an old friend of yours, I just wanted to say that I hope you are doing well and are staying safe through this time. Take care, J.

I read the message a couple of times before touching my throat. So, Mike changed his number, and I messaged a stranger. Now I want to know why he changed his number, and I wonder if I can find him on Facebook. Before I dive into social media, I type a quick message to whoever answered me. He or she seems sweet, any other person would have probably ignored me.

Hi J. Sorry! I hope my message didn't wake you up! I won't bother you again! Be safe, Amy.

I type Mike's full name on Facebook, and a list of people come up. Before I keep scrolling, I frown. Do I want to know about him? I unfriended him because I didn't want to see how perfect his life would be without me. I was a bit hung up on him when we broke up.

The phone dings again, and I see another notification pop up. It's from this J person again. I forget about Facebook.

You didn't. No worries. I have been having some issues sleeping lately, but hey, I guess half of the world feels this way, huh? Covid is screwing us all up.

I nod as I type. Tell me about it.

I send the message, and immediately my eyes widen. Why am I messaging a stranger?

It's especially hard when you are going through it alone. Social distancing sucks.

Smiling, I type back:

Yeah. I just thought that I wish I had a pet that interacted with me. Pete, my fish, is an ass most of the time.

Another message pops in.

Haha. Well, at least he moves. I'm sharing an apartment with a succulent. And I feel she's not too happy with me here because the leaves are wrinkling, and she looked fine a few weeks ago.

I laugh.

You are probably overwatering her.

It takes a couple of seconds to get an answerback.

Ah. Crap. Maybe. And here I thought I was taking good care of my sole living companion.

A small smile plays in my lips, and I can't help but wonder if this person is a guy or a girl. My fingers stay on the keyboard, ready to type something else, but I'm not sure how to keep the conversation going. Talking to a stranger is the most exciting thing that happened to me today, and that's kind of sad. I'm frowning at myself as a new notification pops in.

So. Mike. I gather he's an old friend you lost touch. Ignore me if I'm too nosy.

I read the message twice. My heart starts to beat faster, and I kind of want to do a happy dance because the strange person messaged again.

Here's the truth, J. He's my ex. I haven't talked to him since we broke up a year ago, but I'm bored and out of the blue messaged him on the number I had. I'm quite aware that makes me sound pathetic, but I don't know, I guess I'm trying to cope with... everything.

As I reread the message I just sent, I clear my throat. Talk about being honest. That person is probably thinking how awkward this all is. And whoever that person is, he or she is right.

Hey. I'm not judging. These are crazy times. Two weeks ago, I asked to split a TP package with a total stranger in the parking lot of Walmart because I hadn't found any, and I was desperate. We couldn't even see each other's face because of the masks, but luckily for me, he agreed, and we hid on a corner to split it as if we were smuggling contraband.

I giggle and type back.

It amazes me that life is so weird now. That sounds normal.

Before I talk myself out of this, I type once more to keep the conversation going. I want to know more about the person I'm talking to.

So. J. Are you a guy or a girl? Ignore me if I'm too nosy.

I throw his words again, hoping to feel less awkward, but my neck feels hot, and I think I'm blushing.

I'm Jack. Nice to e-meet you, Amy.

"Jack," I say out loud, and my lips curve up. I type:

Hi Jack.

Hi Amy.

I start giggling while my heart flutters. This is weird.

So, Jack. I have to know. Why did you answer my message? I type.

A few dots start dancing as he types.

Want to know the truth?

I read his line a couple of times. Do I?

Uhm. I guess? I mean, how will I know it's the truth?

You'll have to trust me, he answers back.

Okay. Go ahead, shoot.

I needed a break.

I frown.

From?

Life, I guess. I read your message, and I thought it was kind of you. And I just had to step out for a minute.

My chest tightens as I read his message.

Step out? From where?

The hospital.

I stay still for a moment, not knowing what to say.

Are you okay?

The dots start dancing, they take longer than before, and my throat feels dry. I step to the kitchen and grab a glass of water.

I'm not. I guess I shouldn't be scared... I'm a doctor, after all. But I am.

Oh shit. He's in a hospital, in the middle of a pandemic, while I'm commiserating over being alone.

I would be worried if you weren't. You're a doctor, but you're also human.

I send that, and I add: and you're a hero. My hero.

Okay. Do you realize that now you must inherit my succulent if anything happens to me?

A strangled laugh leaves my chest as I read his text.

I'm sure there are other people worthy of it. I type back.

Yeah, well, no one has ever called me "MY HERO."

I giggle for a moment before my smile fades.

But you are everyone's hero. Don't forget that.

I want to ask him more. I'd like to know if it's as bad as everyone imagines from watching the news, but I don't know if I want to know. I immediately purse my lips and stare at my hands. That's selfish of me.

Thank you, Amy. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Or read. Whatever.

How long is your shift?

I type back without really thinking about it. As soon as I hit send, I want to pull the message again.

The dots move again, and my pulse starts to race.

Would it be okay if I call you sometime? Like, say in a few seconds, maybe.

My laughter reverberates through the apartment.

You're funny.

No, I'm serious. I'd love to hear your voice. He texts back.

I look at Peter as if my fish would know what to do. He doesn't even notice.

Biting my lip, I reread Jack's message. The whole apartment suddenly feels too hot, but before I think much about it, I press the phone button. I close my eyes at the first beep.

"Wow. Now, you're my hero." Jack's voice is dark and sultry. He sounds young, and I suddenly want to know everything about him.

"Why?" I clear my throat, "because I called you?"

"You're brave. I'll give you that. And you have a nice voice."

"Thanks, but I'm not brave. I almost had a panic attack today, when Mrs. Smith, my neighbor, started coughing on the stairs." I purse my lips. What am I talking about? "That makes me sound selfish." I open my mouth and yell in silence as I start pacing the room.

Jack laughs. "We've established we're not judging anyone tonight."

I hear voices on the background, and I stop pacing the room, trying to understand better. "Amy, I need to go, sorry. Thank you for texting and calling. You made my night."

My heart shrinks, and my whole body feels heavy as I slump on the couch. "Okay, thank you for texting me back, Jack. Please stay safe."

"I will... because when I finish my shift, I will call you." He pauses. "If that's okay with you."

I smile. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Awesome. Wish me luck, Amy. I'll talk to you in a few hours."

"Don't break a leg, Jack. Take care."

His cackles make me smile as we hung up. I stare at my phone for a moment before walking to my window. I open it and close my eyes as the breeze nips my cheeks. The street downstairs is alone, but it doesn't feel lonely anymore. Warm radiates from my chest as I stare at my phone.

I'm glad I sent that message.

_________________________________________________________________________

Be safe everyone, 

Love, 

Gaby.