The sun comes up every day, shining brightly through my window. It calls me, but I cannot come to it. The days warm up, inviting me to let my guard down.
I stay vigilant inside because a new generation needs me to love them as I have loved myself. I am in an age group that this virus holds much power over.
I know I need to take care of myself to survive, but I know even more that I need others to take care of me. I cannot do this alone: I need you.
I feel afraid. I feel my mortality. I try to keep those thoughts at bay. They creep in powerfully despite my best attempts. A woman with a mask on coughed near me five days ago when I was outside, and the anxiety rose each day over a mere tickle in the back of my throat.