Easy

I find myself pleading with the universe to give me one easy week. One week where I don't need to think about work and deadlines or promises and obligations or worries and anxieties. Where to-do lists don't matter. Where my phone doesn't ping or ring. A week of peace and quiet where one good thing is followed by another and I don't have to do anything. An easy week.

And it feels so selfish, so self-indulgent, doesn't it? I'm one in 8 billion people. Why should the universe show me extra kindness?

But I do think that there should be a limit to what a person has to go through. I've dealt with illness and death, with heartbreak of sorts, with disappointment, with anger and hate, with loss of all shapes and sizes. And I'm tired. And I need a break.

And I feel like, yes, we've gotten better at talking more honestly about things like loneliness and unhappiness and being unloved or wanting love. We aren't as embarrassed about these flaws or weaknesses or whatever. But also, I feel like we sometimes don't really think about what any of this means, not just in our lives but in others' lives.

What does it mean to be alone? What does it mean for a friend to be afraid of loneliness? What does this fear require and demand, even, from friendships? How much can and should we put up with just because our friend is going through something? And how are we affected when a friend decides that they've had enough of our shit?

When does this merciful god people keep talking about take pity on us?

Last night, someone had retweeted a post about something called a glimmer. The opposite of a trigger, it was a moment of hope. It reminded me of this moment last week. Our group of friends was missing a few, but there I was at karaoke with people that I love so much. And I was out later than I had been in this year of quarantines and isolation and curfews of sorts. My friend had the mic and he was singing his usual song with all of us singing along, standing around him. And I thought, this here. This is what I need. This is what makes life okay.

I miss that life. I hate that it was snatched from me. That I didn't get to say a proper goodbye to it. And I worry that I will never get it back.