What is real? What is imagined? Who is in danger? Who is in control? Here I am, 100 days of isolation, sheltering in place due to COVID-19. Sitting at the window, not knowing what day it is, just watching people go by. They don't see me and don't know I'm watching them. I’m not sure what is real or imagined anymore. There is nothing about my appearance that says anything is different about me, but many days it feels like I’m disappearing. I’m here but not really. Watching the world go by from the confines of my home, the window being the only looking glass, my only connection to the outside world. I try my best not to worry or ruminate too much about what the aftermath of this crisis will look like. Although there is so much to be grateful for during this time. The slow pace and solitude. Being able to do all the things I put aside and/or avoided to face before. I miss my freedom and can't wait for it to come back to me. I know what is possible and refuse to disappear into the dark and become a shadow of the past.
