Affirmations In The Dark
Tonight was my first night back to work after being on vacation for a week. Work was fairly uneventful and I managed to get done an hour early so I left. On my way out the door and into the early morning darkness, I see the weary faces of coworkers plodding in to work their shift. To work their tired bones making sure the collapse of society is a smooth and painful transition. I walk home (as I usually do, I live close) and it’s like living in some bizarre dystopia where the lights are still on and everyone is still alive.
The local recreation center is usually bustling with activity early in the mornings with people coming in to exercise or go for a swim. Now it stands empty and lifeless; the only thing in the parking lot are shadows and the remnants of leaves that fell last year. Main street businesses are all dark, the restaurants that once buzzed with activity are all silent. The virus feels like an omnipresent entity lurking in the dark, just out of sight. Waiting. I tread home quickly lest I become the next victim. The next statistic in an ever expanding sphere.
As I walk in I’m greeted with a wonderfully cool blast of air from the inside. I’d forgotten that I left the air running when I went to work but after the humid, swampy night it was a welcome relief. I go through my numb ritual of putting on some music, stripping everything off, and showering and scrubbing all while the ever present dread fills the room along with the steam from the shower.
As I put on a pair of shorts and a shirt, I look at the pictures of Max and Tyler in the hall and think grimly to myself ‘will I be joining you both soon?‘ but immediately berate myself for thinking such things. Then I fill the void with as many positive thoughts as I can:
We’re going to get through this. We’re going to make it to the other end. We’re going to learn a lot about ourselves. We’re going to learn to adapt. We’re going to see just how strong we are, and learn where our breaking point is. We’re going to stare certain death in the face and tell it that we’re not afraid. We’re going to learn what we’re made of.
And then I thought of you and some of the positivity came out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I have to stay alive for you.
I need to write, I think to myself as I sit down on the couch. My bones are tired. My soul is tired. I need to sleep.
And all the stars without a name
And all the skies that look the same
And all the clouds that fade and then
Then all of this begins again