Dispatch from the Dark
Speaking of the dark: Itâ€™s past midnight, and weâ€™re lying in bed. â€œI just canâ€™t wait for things to get back to normal,â€ says John from his side of the moon.
Iâ€™m not sure how to respond. I hadnâ€™t realized how attached I have become to the idea that, even in all of this, we are moving ahead somehow, and that dealing with all this is something to value. I feel a sharpness in my throat, the slip of the sureness beneath me.
â€œI canâ€™t handle you saying that,â€ I say after a silence, even though I know he isnâ€™t trying to fight. â€œThinking that way kind of invalidates my whole life right now. I have to love these days in the same way I love any other. There might not be a â€˜normalâ€™ from here on out.â€ Continue reading