2020 has been nothing short of unpredictable. Even when we are at home, things are changing at such pace that it is hard to keep up without getting overwhelmed. Each day brings a new tragedy or scandal, natural or man-made, after a million tiny battles between hope and hopelessness. The only certainty at this point is nothing's certain anymore. In such grounds, would it be the right moment to take chances?
Things around me are changing profoundly and constantly. It seems like every day, a friend decides to either pursue a life dream or find comfort in the arms of family. Whatever the reason, they are traveling to other corners of the US and the world, leaving behind our comfortable (and slightly maddening) quarantine. Some of these goodbyes seem temporary and others threaten to be more permanent. The question is: do we really know?
When it comes to taking my own chances, I am not feeling too adventurous. In the midst of such chaos, I don't have it in me to take risks; it feels reckless, irresponsible. It is said that Washington, DC is a city of goodbyes, and they hurt more every time. Isn't surfing waves, however, the best way to keep them from drowning you?
To me, DC is not just the city where I have studied and worked for the past five years. It has been my shelter since the day I moved here as an intern leaving her house for the first time. It is the place where I found love, friendship and, most importantly, my voice. It is the guarantee of freedom, the warmth of relationships, the excitement of feeling fantasies within reach. But if home is where the heart is, where is home if everyone leaves?
Enjoying a summer afternoon wrapped in a dreamy pink sunset at the REACH at the Kennedy Center, one of the many places I adore in DC.
At the possibility of leaving this city for a couple of weeks, my heart is undecided and divided in many pieces. In some way, it feels like a rug is being swept of my feet... like if I don't stay here to hold it together, everything I cherish will vanish. Will we ever just be together as a whole, all at once, like in the careless days that I now remember as the best of my life?
As summer kicks in and the streets are unusually empty, I recall reading that the sadness we felt at the start of quarantine was actually collective grieving. In some way, this feels like, after so many changes, my mourning period is just getting started. In time will come sadness, frustration and finally, acceptance for this new life, the so- called "new normal" that was imposed upon me and all of us. Hopefully the first two will be fleeting periods that give way to better chapters for us all, so we can be together beyond virtuality.
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