Through all of this, I’ve been one of the lucky ones.
I’ve kept my job, and even expanded my business. I have a roof over my head. I’m quarantined with a significant other that I actually love and enjoy spending time with. I have plenty of wine aging in my basement. I can ride this shit out.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself.
I’m one of the lucky ones.
As people cough without masks on, I’m increasingly irritated. At least pretend to give a tiny fuck about someone other than yourself.
As people scoff and shout belligerently at strangers online, I can’t help but feel the pressure inside my head agitate – it’s like a bike pump that’s about to burst.
As cities burn across the United States because another black man was killed by a police officer, all I can do it clap. Our America has been broken for decades. We’ve been on this brink before. Maybe something will actually change this time.
I’m one of the lucky ones.
As I sit on my back porch under a big tree, I think of what its seen. I too have seen a lot. I would never have thought my 29th year would look this way, but here we are, and I’m one of the lucky ones.
I know that all of these minutes are wearing me thin – the ache in my jaw says so. All of this time I’ve sat here, worrying, stressing, sanitizing my damn hands. And even still, I know I’ll carry it with me long after the microbes die. Long after we mask our racial divides once again. Long after I run out of words, because some words just aren’t enough.
My COVID-19 Reflections…