A Letter To You

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The thing that I have had the most difficulty processing during The Longest Apocalypse Ever is time. I've remarked on it in several entries before, so I won't bang on about it much now. Suffice to say...one moment, I'm doing battle with the Christmas tree ("Fuck you, Christmas tree! I win!") at the beginning of December, the next moment it's two days before Christmas and where the hell did December go?

(Although, let's be real: I've been saying shit like that for years now. It comes with the whole getting older thing, I reckon.)

Anyway, December has flown past, basically a blur of 10000 work emails, many nights of insomnia, and a ridiculous amount of YouTubers' silly, cozy vlogmas videos. However, I've been relatively engaged in this holiday season; I even managed to send out a few scores of Christmas cards, each with a personal message. Even a couple of actual, handwritten letters!

Writing out, and addressing, those cards was simultaneously very melancholy, yet oddly joyous. Each time I wrote someone's name, I conjured up a memory of our shared past, a vision of our potential future: Dear Jain (one day, we will hang out in your living room and once again bemoan the obliviousness of men); Dear Dotty (When this is over, we will gather together at Divvy and eat overpriced appetizers and share memories of our common ancestors); Dear Connie-Mom (when flying is safe again, I will come to California and see you and let you mother me); Dear Jessica and Eric (maybe by this time next year we will be together, in person, laughing at cheesy Hallmark movies); Dear Beth (I cannot wait to hold your baby, who is not so much of a baby anymore) Dear Casey (remember when we baked cookies and practiced for our Latin finals while John the Saint brandished those silly oven mitts?)...on, and on, and on. Word after word, sentence after sentence, I labored over those missives and sent such powerful love to those who have peopled my life, who chose to keep me in their lives, who I miss so much, and love more fiercely each day. A fucking plague may keep us physically apart, but so help me god, it won't keep folks out of my heart and mind.

Keep Buggering On, friends.