I thought this was going to be our year.
Remember, as 2019 fell to pieces and I began to slowly breathe again after one of thee most rotten 12 months of all time, what I whispered to you?
That you would be different?
That I would fall in love in 2020?
That I’d find a new profession that combined all the things I’m passionate about?
That I would take time to travel and explore once again?
We had so much to look forward to. So much. But you gave me a quarantine, a pandemic, way more anxiety than I could stand (can anyone stand any anxiety, however large or small?), and a general reminder that this loneliness thing is not for the fainthearted, especially in light of no longer having the options to find release and relief from said loneliness.
So, what are we going to do? It’s gonna be May tomorrow. (Look to your right for the reference.) After May, we’ll be at the halfway point of this unbelievable year. I officially have nothing to look forward to. Because who knows when lockdown will end? (And to be clear: I’m quite all right being in the house. Outside is not ready for us yet, and we’re certainly not ready for outside.) I dread setting any actual goals. Certainly, goals will never end, quarantine or no, but I think we just have to admit the truth to one another: this year is a bust.
Here it is: as the year wears on, 2020, you’ll find me taking things as they come. Virtually goal-free, other than trying to stay healthy and safe. I’ll resume my new fascination with TikTok, creating a few things here and there, remaining prayerful, and just trying to make it. Not necessarily unlike any previous year, but certainly taking note of these new circumstances we’re all living in.
As for you, 2020: just go to bed. You’re