Its overwhelming to take in
It starts to feel like I’m outside of my body, watching myself in a movie or tv show.
Playing a part
Because this can’t be real. Everyone in masks. Everyone. The whole world. The human race.
In my favorite coffee shop. They opened for business. I’m staring at everyone. I want to reach out. I want to connect. The old me is too timid. Knows that’s not what I should do. The me from the new world just sits here, heart pounding, wanting to say something, but paralyzed. I weakly smile at everyone. I fight back tears. My eyes get blurry anyway. My limbs are weak and racing.
Why am I overwhelmed and emotional? Why can’t I move or speak?
I mourn the loss and desire of the old world. The freedom. I’m jealous of the people in movies and tv from before. They can stand next to each other. They can go into and out of buildings without a care. They can rush down a crowded street. They can be with other people. They don’t know how lucky they are. They don’t know what’s coming. They are stupid. They don’t understand anything.
I’m frozen. My chest rises and falls only because my body makes it happen automatically. My hands are numb and have no blood.
I look outside the windows from inside. The world is beautiful right now. May. It’s alive.
So much good has come from this for my family and community. But when I do things from the old life, I am shocked back into reality of the new. A wrestle with wanting normalcy and not knowing what it is anymore.
Maybe my sorrow is from a place of wishing. Of humility. Wishing to go back and be better and take advantage of a freedom I never could have imagined to be lost. Things change quickly. Annette is close to walking. I want my parents to see her while she is still a baby.
I will rush, even if it’s stupid and even if it’s dangerous.
