Love in the time of Pandemic

 The title of the post paraphrases a well-known book written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and it speaks about restrictions and longing.

The truth is that I could have simply written a diary post about every single day that I've spent "at home". But it is quite difficult to encompass the multitude of feelings and sensations that overwhelmed me and the whole world.

As I believe I am mentally strong I have started the two weeks of lockdown with big plans: I will reorganize all my closest and I will read and I will do all the things I always wanted to do but I never had time for. And I did it: my clothes are lined up like obedient soldiers following the Chromatic and thickness rules. Now it's been seven weeks!
Everything seems to have found a sort of breathe-in state, neither desolate/barren, nor calm. There is a void that hangs over my head like a distorted bubble.

I tried to keep everyone happy and active being more preoccupied about their well-being and mental health than mine. For a while, it worked. Teaching online, following a minimal routine, talking to the loved ones.

But I have to be honest and admit that it scares me too, that it gives me pangs of incertitude and self-doubt, that it brings to the surface things I put away not wanting to deal with for a while. I've read that it is normal, because how else can you feel when you are "entrapped" in your house, when your flight ticket is cancelled and when you don't know when you'll be able to see again the man you love. He lives across the border that is closed now.

oh, I read three books or so. I am completing a puzzle, I am keeping myself busy. Except for those days when I cannot move and I feel internally paralysed. I just need to hear on repeat: I love you. we will be fine. You will be fine.

It has taken its toll.

But I am being brave for facing it each day. Each day. And for battling my inner demons. 

I know, in the end, I will be victorious. I always am. I believe that love has healing power: like the light of a firefly during the darkest night.

2nd Connection Erasmus+

A few years ago my New year's resolution was to jump at opportunities, to grab them and hold them close as if they were beloved children. I can't remember if I did that then, but this year I remembered that when I was, ALLL of a sudden, asked whether I'd like to go to Turkey. The departure was scheduled in two days time and I barely had the time to process the thing. Yet, with a sort of problem solving mood on I managed to find substitute teachers for my classes, packed lots of green and blue clothes and gone I was. Took" before" photos in the huge inter-spatial like new Istanbul airport and enjoyed a week of sun, blue skies, gentle crashing waves with 3 of my colleagues. Also, attended unbelievably long training courses, met new interesting people and did our share of tiring/ fun activities.

We didn't take an "after" photo in the airport. We were beaten, with drowsy eyes and in a haste. But lucky. Once back the pandemia spread. The schools went on a lockdown, people went crazy and hoarded essential products, borders were closed and my friends refused to come and visit me for fear. I am looking with a bit glutton eyes towards the Turkish delight that I've brought them. It cannot be shared or rated out of respect and it's kinda of sad to lie there in small bits of different colours and flavours.

My boyfriend is far. I wonder when am I going to see him again and Germany is affected too. To keep sane, I have made a draft on a weekly schedule and locked the Turkish delight in a drawer.

 

Christmas 2019

 

Christmas should go beyond a TV commercial to...ehm...Coca Cola where people are artificially happy, gathered around an abundant dinner table, laughing with their pearly white teeth and looking impeccable in their holiday outfits. Yet, one would be a hypocrite to hide the fact that even if it's due to an efficient marketing strategy which imbedded in our brain this dopamine triggering image or simply due to the neverending quest to find happiness, we all, secretly, want that. We want people to spend time with, people to laugh with, good food and beautiful clothes in a celebration of what is a holiday that makes the rat race worthwhile.

And I always dreamt not of a white dress necessarily, but of someone to ornament the Christmas tree with. The feeling of belonging to my own little village even if that is a two people village. And someday a kid with pearly whites too who laughs and giggles as he/ she saw Santa around the corner.

Am I too much of a regular woman?

Afine