It may be time I open up about something: I’m sad. Its a kind of sadness I’ve never felt before, one that doesn’t stem from a specific situation or experience. It's a type of sadness that I feel buried beneath layers of my skin and bone and organs. As a writer you would think I would now how to put feelings into words, to beautifully spell out this anguish that I’m currently feeling, but for once, I am at a loss of words. This has been the hardest year of my life. Not to discredit the growth and happiness I’ve experienced this year, but I need a minute to focus and come to terms with the current feeling at hand. 

I feel as though I am missing out on life. I wrote my final essays and tests at the desk in my bedroom, and I’ll likely watch my graduation ceremony on the couch in my living room. An accomplishment I’ve worked four years for and I will not walk across the stage in a gown and cap and get my diploma. Instead it will be mailed to me, probably crinkled by the time it reaches my mailbox. I know my struggles are minimal in comparison to what is at sake, I know I am privileged for being able to stay home and safe throughout this pandemic, but I also am mourning for the events in my life that should be taking place. 

My days have become a repetition of the same activities; breakfast, school, workout (if I can even force myself to do that), lunch, nap, dinner, maybe throw watching a movie into that rotation. All in the confines of my home. Most mornings I find it difficult to get out of bed, lacking any real motivation to make it to my desk to start my day. The past year I’ve had to pretend to have my shit together, and I’ve handled it well. I’m still graduating, I’m applying for jobs, I try my best to make the most out of my days. But lately, it has been hard to keep it all together when all I want is to go outside and live my normal life. 

I miss my friends, I miss the people in my program who I would spend countless hours with complaining about our profs, I miss going for dinners and concerts and museums. It is hard to stay in contact with people when you can barely stay connected with yourself. We’ve lost all those people who lived on that blurry line of acquaintance and friend, who we saw too often and knew too many random facts about to be fully an acquaintance, but not close enough to consider a friend. Those people you’d share laughs with at the library and bump into every weekend at the bar. I am sorry for my lack of connection lately, and I want you to know I miss you. All of you. 

This feels like a sad excuse of an article, but like I said I am sad, and I am human, despite wishing I wasn’t right now, and I am feeling every little thing that is happening to me. It’s hard to navigate the world when you aren’t allowed to leave your bedroom. For the first time in my life I feel lost, stuck at a crossroad but being tied down, unable to pick a lane. Usually I like to offer advice, to tie together pretty words that pull at heartstrings, but lately I’ve felt the need for someone else to lay out the pretty words on the table and read them to me. I know I’m not alone, this year hasn’t been easy for anyone. Life isn’t easy right now, and for once I am lacking the proper thing to say. 

I guess all I can say right now is I’m sorry if you are also feeling like this. At a time where people are preaching about “doing all the things in quarantine that you never got around to doing”, just know it is okay if you are just surviving. I see you, I feel with you, and I may not have the answers but I do know that we will get through it. There is no secret way out, only through, and even if I did wrap it all up in pretty words it wouldn’t change the fact that you still need to push through it, to wait it out. 

I’ve learned sadness feels lonely, but that its your mind playing tricks with you, isolating you out until you give in. You aren’t alone, far from it; the whole word is grieving with you. We try our best to stay in touch through FaceTime dates and Zoom parties, but it's beginning to feel fake, a facade meant to try and pretend like everything isn’t going to shit. Misery loves company, and I’m dying for companionship. If you made it through my pity party thank you, I needed it and I hope you know that this isn’t permanent, there are better days ahead and beautiful sentences you haven’t yet read. Thank you for indulging me. And to those who may think I’ve forgotten about them, I miss you and I cannot wait to see you again.