It’s heavy. So deeply heavy. Heavy with fear, with love and with grief.

I miss you. I miss you with a heart that aches like it’s been broken. I love you with a love that is deep, piercing and real. I love you with a need like I may never see you again. And what if that is true, my love. How will I survive without you?

How did we get here? We saw it coming. But I was too busy licking my wounds to look up before it hit. I was too busy looking at you in awe to notice it was as real as they said.

Like getting caught doing something unthinkable, like wounding something so pure; it is here to remind us what we have, what we might lose, and how we fucked up so badly at being so forgivably human that we let it happen.

It is here to remind us that we are resourceful, intelligent and able. it is here to remind us that we are full of art. It is here to remind us that we are fragile. It is here to remind us that we are guaranteed nothing. Like any tragedy, it is here to remind us that all we have is each other.

We are not capable of living without love, affection and gathering. We are not capable of living in a world without connection, rest and art. But we can live a long time pretending. We’ve had a lot of practice doing just that. We’ve been training for this. Overworked, under-loved and going at top speed is what got us here. Now we must stop; stop and feel the heavy weight of this. The heavy weight of where we have arrived; what we chose; who we allowed ourselves to become. But this is also a place where we get to discover who we want to be. As a community. As a collective. As a family.

Make art. Make love. Find bubbly water at all cost. Just kidding, don’t do that. That’s what got us in this toilet paper desert mess to begin with. But let those you love do that for you. Because in this space is where we will know how deeply loved we are. In this space is where we will learn what we had, what we no longer have, what we want to keep and what needs to leave. Take notes. Take notes. Take note. Of what needs to change. Take note of what needs to stay. Take note of what makes you feel good. Take note of what makes you feel afraid for your future. Take note of what will heal you. Take note of what will heal us all.

Grieve. Grieve the life you had and all that it took from you before you even got here. Grieve what has broken. Grieve what has been fixed. Grieve what was right in front of you when you didn’t stop long enough to hold it. Hold it. If you can. And if you can not, grieve it too.

We do not get to take back what we lost or what we took for granted. We do not get to make up for lost time. We do not get to keep what must go. But we get to keep what we make of this. We get to keep what we learn, what we create, and how we love. All we ever get to keep is how we love. So love. Love with everything you’ve got. because it’s all we’ve got.

Sending you love from Quarantine.