I keep up with what’s going on in the world, whether it be based in literature, politics, comedy, through podcasts, it all keeps me attuned (I hope) to what is truly happening around us. And I hear about the possibility of a third jab in our future but it’s only vaguely eyebrow-raising news at this point.
My inability to be surprised by such news has drudged up a dull persona that lives darkly in my soul. A slightly resentful, trudging-through-life person who watches all this frightening news of Delta variants sprouting up like fall fungi, stalling our progress and keeping us masked and frightened, and barely blinks an eye.
This is why leaning on our supports, whatever form they come in, is more important than ever now. I’m very lucky to have a loving family who believe in me and thinks I’m great, and I have two bosom friends—which I guess means BFFs—who are as loyal to me as Star Wars fans are to their franchise. These are the kind of friends who, if I needed to come stay for a week and refused to tell them why, would have no issue opening their door to me. The kind of friends with whom it feels like no time has passed at all if one of us is unreachable or hasn’t been seen in a long time. I couldn’t have come through my various triumphs and tragedies without them. And I know that if for some reason I lose touch, they might be worried, but they’ll never be angry. All those same things apply to me with them as well. We love each other without judgment, resentment, jealousy or fear of giving up. We know each other that well, and we know that we are there for each other.
This kind of support is hard to find. We’ve seen each other through some ugly stuff and we have suffered together; we’ve also thrived together when one or all of us were doing especially well. Through COVID it hasn’t always been easy to stay in touch, but we know our solidarity will withstand it, and there will helpfully come a time where we can actually have a night of recounting past events and revealing our dreams for the future and hopefully end up spooning without being masked and six feet apart.
In the meantime, hope still lives and we move on.