True North

This is such a strange time. I don’t know what to make of it. Prior to quarantine, I would have been thrilled to spend more time at home, to have an excuse not to have to run from one thing to the next. But now. . . now, I eagerly escape the apartment every morning and evening to walk in the park. Don’t get me wrong, I take this disease seriously and my hands are chaffed from the amount of times they are washed daily. I only go out early in the morning and at sunset - before and after the rest of the city.

The park is the only place safe right now, in this time of social distancing. And watching the cherry blossoms this week has brought me hope. I need some hope right now when the world is facing a global shut down and I am facing, well, what? I don’t know what to do about Fred. Seeing the hints of pink peeking through the buds makes me think we can come through this. But do I mean the disease, the relationship, or both?

This morning I couldn’t go out. Well, I guess I could have, but it wouldn’t have been pleasant. This morning it was raining, the visible world engulfed in a cloud that seemed to permeate everything. And Fred and I were videoing through Messenger. He really isn’t doing well with quarantine. He wanted me to come over and I told him we aren’t really supposed to interact unnecessarily. He said I was being paranoid. Maybe I am, but what do I lose if I don’t risk it? And then what do I lose if I do? I asked him, you know what he said? He said I could lose him if I was going to be such a wuss. Sweet and supportive, right? Jerk.

Anyway, let’s leave that in the mist that was this morning. So much has happened since then. Well, it has and it hasn’t. Living in the world that is Covid-19, our understandings of things seem to change regularly while the basic realities of being shut up in our home remain the same. 

The sun is already touching the horizon when I enter the park. Most of the people are returning to their apartments. I wave at the ones closest to me and most of them wave back. Maybe this is making the world better in its own little way. We are all so desperate for human contact that we are taking chances we wouldn’t have taken a month ago and looking at people rather than just our phones. 

Up ahead there is one of the regular food vendors. What is he doing up there? Is that allowed? I start to veer away from the forbidden human contact when the smell of seasoned beef makes my stomach growl. I am so tired of my cooking. I want to run to the stand and order a burger, an empanada, anything, everything! Then I will wave it up at Fred’s windows and taunt him. Or I guess I could get something that take it to him. That would undoubtedly heal the rift that formed today. But do I want to heal it? I don’t know.

With what feels like a more than human force of will, I turn away, towards the pond. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax a little more. Unfortunately, the quiet makes all the voices in my head that much louder. I had hoped to leave them in my apartment.

Fred had wanted to come over for dinner and had been very upset when I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea that we have dinner together. It is as if he doesn’t understand this whole pandemic. Social distancing. Duh. No, your laziness is not an excuse to ignore the guidelines. Make your own dinner! I’m not willing to risk my health to enable you. 

I feel guilty for my flash of anger and look up at his apartment building and at the lit windows that I know contain him. Do I see his silhouette in the window? I’m not sure. I squint at it, and then try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. My nose starts running and I dig in my pockets for a tissue. I really hope this is just allergies. The last rays of the sun setting flash in my eyes, temporarily blinding me. 

I turn around, turning my back on Fred and his apartment and the sun that has slipped out of sight. I’m going to break it off with Fred. I don’t like him and there isn’t any point in risking either my mental or physical well-being on someone so self-involved.I take my first steps in the opposite direction on faith, knowing that I had just come this way and hoping I can navigate until my vision clears. 

I wonder how long it would have taken me to move past Fred without these circumstances. Confident guys have always been my kryptonite. Confident, hell, self-involved, demanding. I don’t know why I am so attracted to people who couldn’t care less about me, but maybe this will be one positive take away from all of this. I need to prioritize my health and well-being, not just now, but always. I wonder how many other people are having similar realizations. How many of us have been pushing through our day to day lives, continuing our daily routines because it was what was expected of us rather than what was best for us? 

I look above me and a few bright stars are starting to be visible above me. I search for the handful of constellations with which I am familiar. I see the Big Dipper and the North Star. Finding Polaris means you know north, right? It can instill faith in your directionality. I could use some faith. I look up at the Northern Star. It seems to wink back at me knowingly and suddenly I feel as though I can trust the direction I am headed.