Dear Survivor, It’s been a year and a half away from you. Minutes apart by distance yet still out of reach. Though I see and hear you every day through digital means, the underlying ache after each farewell leaves me wistful for the times before. Even actual physical meetings in public places leaves me wanting. Fleeting touches are discouraged and conversation is stunted by range and obstruction. The worldwide affliction is truly a curse. Is being in your presence more important than our well being? In fiction, yes. Hollywood narrative lends to comforting notions of emotion conquering all. But reality hits harder in black and white dripping red as evidenced by statistics. Safety is paramount. The reminders of sterilization are frequent and checks on protective gear are often. I feel your concern but, sometimes, during the dark and lonely hours, would that I could feel more. Longing, yes, not distance measured but time seemingly stretched to relative infini...
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