This year

This was supposed to be the year. I've heard so many stories about the senior year that everyone gets. The parties, the dances, the trips, the performances, the chance to say goodbye to our friends. We don't get that this year. Instead of performing in Chicago, I'm in my room calling my friends of 13 years to tell them that I wish them luck at college. Instead of thanking my teachers for putting up with me, I'm sending them emails wishing them well. Because we don't know if they are well. We don't know which of us will make it out and that scares me. I've never had to face anything like this. The world has never had to face anything like this. I've tried to not think about it. I write, I cook, I draw. But in the end, this pandemic is the first and last thing I think about in the day. I just wish we had more time. That's all we needed. I missed a week of school right before our school closed. My dad drove my sister and I to our schools to clear out our lockers because we knew this was coming. I can remember this well and it sticks with me on how unprepared we were. We were in my sister's school and a teacher walked by. Her words were "Why are you clearing out your locker? We've still got time. The school is going to stay open for another week."

But we didn't have time. That week didn't happen because some staff at a nearby college got the virus. Some people at the nearby church got the virus. I didn't know that we were done until we got that phone call saying that school is done. It's just done. No closure, no goodbyes, no ceremony. 13 years of school has finished up without that promised bang. 

I know we aren't the only people to have lost something. I now that losing a school year is nothing compared to what others are going through. But a selfish part of me wants to scream and be angry with the world for stripping this year from me. And that's okay. It's okay to be mad. It's okay to cry and shout. There will be good days and there will be bad days. 

Sometimes you'll feel this empty feeling in your chest when you look back just a few months ago and realize you might never have that same life back. You'll feel the boredom of not being able to go anywhere. We're social creatures. I've taken to people watching out of my window. Every emotion you are feeling during this time is valid. We're all struggling. But unlike most events, we're all struggling together

Author's Note

The picture for the title is something that I drew for the blm movement. I can't draw people so one of my projects during this stay at home order is to practice. I've been drawing one person every week. This drawing was from week one

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right dear Faust.
"We're all struggling. But unlike most events, we're all struggling together"
The above is true today too. Maybe worst? I hope you write again and thank you for sharing the story.
Coyote