An open letter to Life, and everyone in it

Bizarre. That’s the word everyone’s been using to describe you lately, and they aren’t wrong. It’s bizarre how the air has stilled, how the music is softer and the moments are duller. Nothing feels real to us, because the distance we’re forced to maintain leaves us in soundproof bubbles. Yet somehow, everything remains noisy.

The truth is, I miss living.

I miss walking underneath canopies of trees, I miss sunlight and moonlight and the light that people bring to barren cities. I miss when the streets were full. I miss the monotony of daily life, the humdrum that I’d never appreciated. I miss when the news blared with every single other negative aspect of our world that wasn’t this one.

The loneliness I feel isn’t one of solitude; I feel lonely in my house full of people. It’s loneliness that blurs with melancholy. It’s the type of loneliness that laces the underbelly of phone calls, video calls, and text messages. This is a loneliness none of us were prepared for. Holidays and vacations held the promise of reunion upon return. It’s the uncertainty of when we’ll actually see each other again, when we’ll hear laughter ring clearer and smiles shine a little brighter. My phone screen lets me experience two-dimensional relationships in our four-dimensional world. We never got to say goodbye to each other. I never got to hug you and tell you that I’ll always be there for you. My heart misses you. I will always love you all so much.

What does life mean to you? The world? The universe? Everything? Easy.

I have always valued life for its unpredictability. Its sheer will to change the course of humanity on a whim, to break people down to their very bare bones.

Life is power we are too ignorant to understand. It’s more than just the emotions you feel and the experiences you live, life is the energy that thrums in the air. It’s the energy that surges through nature, dancing between your fingers and rushing through thicket. Life is the chaotic mix between humbling awe and primal terror when you see a rogue wave crashing down upon you. Life is romantic and beautiful. It’s rose-colored glass that tints the skies pink. And just when you fall in love, when you submit yourself to the possibility of being in love, when you grip the glass too tightly, the sharp edges make you bleed.

Humanity is currently despondent. We never have known what the future holds, but the uncertainty echoes louder now that our world is silent. The disparity between the rich and the poor grows wider and wider, chasms threatening to swallow populations whole. Privilege, we sigh. Most of us don’t really know what it means. The stale air we’re fortunate enough to breathe suffocates the rest. We’re all trapped here. Fear immobilizes us. It winds through our limbs and locks us in place.

Stay in place. Life will always move on.

The earth will spin. The trees will grow. The flowers will bloom in the spring and life will seep through the cracks, through the cobblestones, through rivers and mountains and dunes. Life will flow the way it always has been flowing; with beautiful, reckless abandon. We’ll get to witness it someday. We’ll creak open our doors and breathe the air we took for granted. Slowly, things will fall into place. The sunset was beautiful, fiery, and cataclysmic. Soon, we’ll get to see the sunrise.

Love,

Me.

~~~~~~~

I wrote this a few weeks ago when this lockdown started. It's cute to see how optimistic I was.