When the hardest part is over we'll be here

Dear future hubster, 

hang in there. I'm saying this to you so I don't have to say it to myself. 

Hang in there, because there is an end in sight. It's not as near as Frankie said it, but there is some light. I don't know if we even acknowledged the progress that has been made in the past weeks. I for one might or might not have been in tears seeing Maggie Keenan getting her shot. Tears of hope certainly, but not tears of relief. Tears of anticipation, anxiety, cabin fever, uncertainty, lack of trust.

For all the things we couldn't do externally, this year, for many of us, has been severe labour on the inside. Too much to think about, too many things to question, nobody to give answers, and when they do we don't believe them anyway. 

Grief - anticipatory, real -, misery competition, guilt, loss of perspective, loss of appetite, circles to go around in. Anger, jealousy, resentment towards those who weren't there. Anger, jealousy, resentment towards those who were there. Mood swings, crazy dreams, K-drama marathons.

Just writing these makes me want to lie down. If you've felt like you're dragging your body from the kitchen to the living room and back at any point this year, you're not alone. If you've felt like nothing has meaning anymore, and you couldn't think of anything to look forward to, you're not alone. If you were hiding from the people you love the most, if you felt unheard, unseen, not understood, not cared for enough, stretched too thin - you're not alone.

And that really is the trick. If you're reading this, you're not alone. And if you're reading this, we are both still alive. In times like this, it's no small feat. If you're lucky like me, and most of your loved ones have been spared so far, and you're clenching your fists and jaw wanting so bad that they will continue being spared and healthy, I'm with you. It feels like that last hour of a long bus ride, or a transatlantic flight, if you remember those - it feels longer than any other hour of the journey. Time is not only a social construct, it's also perceived very subjectively. The coming few months might feel longer than all of this year has. 

It sucks, I know. 

That's why I keep saying, hang in there. A few more incredibly long months, at least half of them with very little sunlight, a few hundred more takeout dinners, underwhelming online workout sessions, solo birthdays to go. After that, there will be colleagues who have legs, friends we can hug, movies not in our living rooms. 

There will be life. There will be love.

Just hang in there.