Dear Reader

It is 4:40 a.m. I am awake. You are awake. The world is awake. Those who are asleep are sure to be awake soon. They will open their eyes and wonder what woke them. Then they will remember. They will roll over and try to fall back into that comforting slumber but it will not come. Some will wrestle with this paradox till dawn. Others will reluctantly rise and look for familiar comfort. Lisa sleeps now upstairs and her dreams hold the family tight as the world twists and shakes itself to pieces. She will hear me typing and come ask what I'm doing. I will tell her I love her and I appreciate how her dreams have such a power to keep us all safe. She will not understand. It doesn't matter. Truth is truth no matter how strange it sounds.

The lights of the neighbors' houses are on. We do not need to talk to understand. They are working through their own thoughts, in their own ways. So am I. So are you. We are all afraid, afraid of being too afraid. Afraid of not being afraid enough. No one seems to know exactly how to feel their own emotions.

And so I will feel them for all of us. Or at least I will put them down for all to read. The world seems poisoned and we are all afraid to touch it. We are standing a safe distance from everything we need. Today I bought food from a farmers' market that was supposed to be cancelled but happened anyway, out of necessity. The kind farmer took my money and asked if I needed anything else. I said I really needed a hug but I would wait until it was safe. We laughed and I could tell she felt the same way. We stood momentarily, a safe distance from what our souls needed most. How long, I wondered. The French are to quit kissing cheeks as a greeting. How long? Forever?

Will we die if we touch? Will we die if we do not? Thinking about how people react from the perspective of a screen, we brag and we accuse. We use words we would never say out loud. We would never allow our anger to tear the soft and vulnerable flesh of another. We care for each other when we are within the unsafe distance. Will we die if we get too close? Will we die if we linger too far away?

It is now 5 a.m. I am awake and so are you. It is a bit closer to a normal time to be awake. I tried to bargain with myself earlier. Stay in bed. Go back to sleep. But I know my mind too well to imagine it would work. Sometimes I feel the weight of everything. This morning I feel the weight of everyone. It is dense and impossible to carry. You feel it too. We will try to carry it together. From a safe distance.

We lit a log and sat by its comforting warmth as the sun set. We are kin and are allowed to be close. I basked in that closeness as if it were something entirely new. How long had I allowed us to be distant? There are words for my absolute devotion to these people. Have I not spoken them until now? Can I softly whisper my needs to them and shout my needs to you at the same time? Will I be too loud if we are close? Will I be too quiet if we are distant? Will I die if we are too close? Will I die if we are not close enough?

What I feel, what we all feel, is uncertainty. If you have ever stood high above a river trying to convince yourself to jump, you recognize this feeling. Your stomach churns as your mind tries to tell you this is a good idea. Jump! But in this imagining, you either jump or you climb back down. What I feel, what we all feel, is not going away. It is prolonged anxiety with no potential to jump or climb down. We are standing on the cliff until our physiology causes our hair to fall out and our hands to crack from washing. Right now there is nowhere to jump and no way to climb down.

It is 5:30. I am awake. You are awake. The world is awake and I have put my thoughts somewhere besides my head. I am glad for that. I hope you are well. It is time to switch from tea to coffee and embrace the day. The smell of campfire lingers on my clothes. I will embrace the odd normalcy of that. Perhaps we will burn another log tonight.

Until then, I wish you the best. I am happy we are awake together. I am just fine with my feelings and you should be too. They are not only allowed, they are required. I'm pretty confident there will never be a day quite like this one. Do with it what you will and know I am pulling for you...

...from a safe distance...

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© 2020 Phillip W Parsons

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Myra Fellows

Pretty cool. Your emotions are still guarded though. Why not be totally raw. Instead of alluding to the fears and the wondering if we will die or not, describe what IS dying in you and what is living?
I also don't understand the log. Just one log? Are you limited to a chiminea? When we have a fire, it is a large outdoor fire. In a pit, circled by stones. We have camp chairs and beer...
I miss my neighbors being able to come from the woods and open up another chair.
Covid caution or craziness?