It’s been over a year living with Covid. I used to be so comfortable walking in crowded spaces, feeling happy seeing people go about their day. Perhaps bumping into an old friend and having a conversation; not having to worry about where they came from, whom they had met, how close they stood next to me, or even a hug. Now, it’s all I think about. I don’t know if I ever see myself completely comfortable sharing a drink, consoling a drunk stranger in the bathroom of a bar, or being okay with something as minute as a sneeze.

Things I used to think were so normal, I took for granted. I constantly long for a time I can go out into the streets again and make merry; not tied down by the fear of something so powerful, yet not even visible to the naked eye. And maybe, hopefully, I’ll appreciate it some more.

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