Alone

I know it's a bad idea to send this message, but I do it anyway.

I need a distraction. It's 1 am on a Friday night, and it's the third day in a row I wake up at this time. Outside, the streets are quiet and empty, and my heart feels heavy. For an always buzzing city like New York, this isn't normal.

Three weeks ago, I would have laughed at the idea of being home on a Friday night, but everything is different now. Every time I step outside, I hold my breath for as much as I can. My hands start to sweat as I reach the building's door and reaching the grocery shop around the corner seems as complex as an algebra equation. You can't touch the doorknob. You must sanitize your hands. You must keep your distance. The new normal is not about looking pretty. It's about staying safe.

Every trip to the grocery shop is like a constant battle against an invisible enemy: a disease you can't see, but it's there, just waiting for you to touch your face. It's draining.

Being in quarantine makes you do weird stuff. Like, baking every cookie recipe that comes to mind, or writing to your ex to see how he's doing after a year of not hearing from him...

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I sit cross-legged on the floor across Pete, my beta fish. He's at the bottom of his small aquarium, probably sleeping. I have the urge to tap on the glass to wake him up, but I know I'm just desperate for contact with any living thing. It's not like Pete gives a crap anyway.

My phone dings, and the screen lights up through the darkness in the room. Could it be Mike? For the short time we lived together, he was a night-owl. I guess some things didn't change. My pulse starts to race as I grab the phone and unlock the screen. It is a message from his number, but it takes me a moment to understand who wrote it.

Dear Amy, I'm sorry, but I don't know who Mike is. I got this number three months ago. While I understand your message was for Mike, who I am assuming is an old friend of yours, I just wanted to say that I hope you are doing well and are staying safe through this time. Take care, J.

I read the message a couple of times before touching my throat. So, Mike changed his number, and I messaged a stranger. Now I want to know why he changed his number, and I wonder if I can find him on Facebook. Before I dive into social media, I type a quick message to whoever answered me. He or she seems sweet, any other person would have probably ignored me.

Hi J. Sorry! I hope my message didn't wake you up! I won't bother you again! Be safe, Amy.

I type Mike's full name on Facebook, and a list of people come up. Before I keep scrolling, I frown. Do I want to know about him? I unfriended him because I didn't want to see how perfect his life would be without me. I was a bit hung up on him when we broke up.

The phone dings again, and I see another notification pop up. It's from this J person again. I forget about Facebook.

You didn't. No worries. I have been having some issues sleeping lately, but hey, I guess half of the world feels this way, huh? Covid is screwing us all up.

I nod as I type. Tell me about it.

I send the message, and immediately my eyes widen. Why am I messaging a stranger?

It's especially hard when you are going through it alone. Social distancing sucks.

Smiling, I type back:

Yeah. I just thought that I wish I had a pet that interacted with me. Pete, my fish, is an ass most of the time.

Another message pops in.

Haha. Well, at least he moves. I'm sharing an apartment with a succulent. And I feel she's not too happy with me here because the leaves are wrinkling, and she looked fine a few weeks ago.