“I blame the quarantine.” I sighed while cracking open a cold one.
It was a rainy day on a Sunday, which is ironic since my plants died because I lost all motivation in taking care of them. The first day I got them they were delicate little things. Over time, their beautiful petals started to blossom, varying from orange marigolds to yellow daffodils. As my flowers died so did my feelings, I felt nothing.
Mom and Dad’s way of checking up on me was shooting me a quick “how are you honey?” text every now and then. Still appreciated the effort though.
My girlfriend left me and took our dog, that one hurt like hell. Poor Beverley is forced to live with the Wicked Witch of the West and her new boyfriend.
The only good thing that came out of this break up is the apartment. Although it does get lonely sometimes and considering my only type of comfort is dead, I am forced to be alone with my thoughts. Maybe this is what I needed, was some alone time. Time to collect my thoughts and make room for some change. This whole virus has made me rethink all my life choices. I know it’s sad to use a virus outbreak as an excuse to change, but at least it knocked some sense into me. People are dying and I’m over here, flesh and blood, with a heartbeat, complaining about my girlfriend that cheated on me and taking my dog.
The more I thought about it the more regret I felt. The more I went outside the faster reality had hit me that this is serious, and people are dying. That I needed to text my mom and dad that I loved them and that I hoped they’re doing okay.
When am I ever going to be able to see them again? What about grandma or grandpa?
My heart instantly sank into my stomach and I attempted to sit up straight on the couch. Looking over at my dying plants I shook my head and forced myself to get up while looking out my window.
It’s sunny today, which is a sign I need to buy some new plants.
–Nadia Xavier, Rhode Island College creative-writing student