“Don’t eat that! Let me get the hand sanitiser out first.” I batted the takeaway slice of cake away from David’s mouth, rummaging around in my pockets for my bottle of hand sanitiser. We were out for our usual weekly lockdown walk and had picked up a slice of cake from a local café to eat on the way. David screwed his face up in disgust and said, “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I’m trying to use less hand sanitiser recently as it makes my hands really dry.” I’m not sure what expression sat upon my face but I am fairly certain it was one of shock horror. “It makes your hands dry?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “I don’t care if you have dry hands, I care if you get bloody Covid.” I don’t think I had ever argued with anyone about hand sanitiser before but there is a first time for everything.

David said he keeps his hands in his pockets when he goes out, which apparently prevents the need for hand sanitiser. I combatted this argument by saying that I see him run his hands through his hair probably once every 20 minutes, and therefore he should still hand sanitise to prevent his hair being saturated in Covid particles.

The past year has been strange. My body has discovered so many different ways to express anxiety and stress that I am actually rather impressed. Our world seems to be filled with death and distance. We feel so far away from our loved ones and it feels unnatural. Normally, when your world seems to be falling down around you, you gravitate towards those you are closest to. I, for one, would not have gotten through a single break up, a single loss, a single mistake, without having my friends to lean on. Right now, I can’t even hug them. I have found, however, that even though there is a terrifying amount of fear and sadness around us, there has been an overwhelming presence of love too. Even if it isn’t shown in the familiar way we are used to.

When I had a go at David for not using hand sanitiser, what I was really saying was, “I love you so much I can’t bear the thought of you getting sick.” And when we went for a walk the following weekend and he proudly pulled a new bottle of hand sanitiser out of his pocket, what he was saying was, “I appreciate that you care and I don’t want to cause you any more anxiety because I love you too.”

Friends ~ My Sweet Potatoes

Every February 13th, my girlfriends and I celebrate Galentine’s Day – the day before Valentine’s where we can celebrate our friends. Because, after all, love comes in many different shapes and forms, not just romantic. Our usual celebrations would involve dinner and lots of wine and/or cocktails. This year, of course, any contact has been virtual. That doesn’t mean I feel the love any less.

I frequently send messages to my closest friends when I feel like I am on the verge of a breakdown, basically desperately asking for any kind of comforting words that would sooth my fast-moving thoughts. After threatening to give up on writing completely in a whirlwind of frustration, my friend Morgan delivered two books to me the following day. One book on turning your life into fiction, and the other a Stephen King memoir on writing. Not only did this encourage me to keep writing, it knocked two books off my Goodreads reading challenge for 2021 as I devoured them so quickly. A couple days later, a care package from Leanne arrived on my doorstep. After telling her I was finding it hard to sleep, I was met with all the lovely smelling self-care items I could need to help me relax, from candles to cupcakes. These girls are two of my biggest cheerleaders.

I am so grateful to have a group of friends who I can rely on so much. And I’m not just talking about getting lockdown presents delivered to my door. I appreciate those who read my essay-equivalent messages I send via WhatsApp and who reply with gentleness and honesty, I appreciate those who phone me whenever I feel like I am hyperventilating, and I especially appreciate those who share funny TikToks and make me laugh. Because who doesn’t need a laugh in lockdown. I honestly would feel so lost and misunderstood without those I am so lucky to call my friends.

My Family ~ Mum

I awoke early one morning at the beginning of October, unable to move. I hadn’t had my back seize up that much in a very long time. No doubt this was a result of seven months of working from home and using a dining room chair to sit on at my desk. Any time I tried to shift my weight onto my side I was met with a delightful, searing pain across my lower back. I guessed I wasn’t going to be moving any time soon. There wasn’t any sunlight seeping through my curtains yet, so I estimated it was around 5am. Maybe I could drift back off to sleep.

This will go away. It’ll ease up. For sure.

What felt like an hour later, it had not eased up. In fact, it felt worse. I knew I needed help to move and as much as I love my collection of pop vinyls that sit at the end of my bed, I was actually starting to find them rather boring after staring at them in the dark for the past hour. I could have yelled for help but decided it would be better to call my mum. After about fifteen minutes of wriggling I managed to grab my phone which was charging on the floor next to my bed.

I tried my mum’s mobile but after no response, I decided the only way forward was to ring the house phone. Our house phone very rarely rings so I’m fairly certain that when it does, especially in the early hours of the morning, I’m not the only one that assumes it is someone calling to tell us bad news. The only other time the landline has rung in the early hours of the morning was after one of my drunken nights out in first year of university where I had lost my mobile phone and wanted to cry to my mum about the unfairness of my eighteen year old life.

After answering the phone, my mum was upstairs as quick as a flash in her usual mum mode. She came with porridge, water and, most importantly, painkillers. An hour later she had a doctor’s phone appointment booked for me and returned from the pharmacy later that day after picking up my new prescription. I think my mum secretly enjoys it when I’m bedbound because it means she can hug me without me running away but when each movement brings tears to your eyes, you need a bit of TLC from mum.  

I wouldn’t want to be locked down with anyone else.

My Boyfriend ~ Lockdown 1.0

I hadn’t seen David in about 6 weeks, as was the case for most people and their partners. We had been thrown headfirst into a lockdown and not even had a chance to say goodbye. I had last seen him on the 13^th March for a marathon of Love Is Blind and as he left, I hugged him on my doorstep. “I’ll see you sometime next week, I don’t know when, we’ll sort a day.” He left, oblivious as to what was about to happen in the following weeks.

The following day my sister and I came down with a fever. As this was before Covid tests were widely available, I have absolutely no idea whether this was Covid but as per Bojo’s request, we isolated. And then less than a week later the entire country was locked down.

I remember the exact date I next saw David in person as it was my Dad’s birthday, the 25^th April. David had decided the previous day that he was going to hand deliver his homemade cookies. Weirdly, I found myself feeling nervous. 6 weeks was the longest I had gone without seeing him. I had also gone a long time without wearing make-up or using product in my hair. What if I had forgotten how to perfect my winged eyeliner? (I had not – thankfully it turns out that after fourteen years of wearing eyeliner every day, my ability to draw them on does not disappear so easily.)

I remember hearing the knock at the door and coming outside to see the cookies placed on the doorstep and David about 2 metres away by our front gate. His hair had grown the longest I had ever seen it and flicked up at the back. He had shaved especially and wore a lovely white shirt. I remember it being rather warm for April and the sun was just peeking through the clouds. We smiled awkwardly at first, getting used to the fact that we could not come any closer than 2 metres. Honestly, it felt upsetting staying so far away. After 6 weeks of distance the one thing I wanted to do was give him a hug. We spoke loudly over the cars zooming past on the main road and my parents both popped their heads out to say hello.

Someone said to me the other day that social distancing with their partner feels so upsetting because there is something about it that makes it feel like you are breaking up. This is far from the case, but there is something slightly reminiscent of that awkwardness and distance you feel during a breakup. It feels unnatural to stay apart from someone you love.

Eventually, we said goodbye, not knowing when we would next see each other’s faces in person. I missed him as soon as he left. But I took his cookies inside and munched on them, happier than I was the hour before. I couldn’t hug or kiss David, but he had driven all that way to see me. Just to see my face in person from 2 metres away.

***

I think that is the weird thing about love during Covid. We can’t show our affection in ways we normally would. When words fail us, we cannot simply give a hug. We have to resist our human impulses to hug and hold hands, or to simply sit closer to someone to feel more at ease just because you are in their presence.

I know this won’t be forever, but for the time being, we are making do. We do group zoom calls to catch up on lockdown activities. We drop off care packages to our friends who are feeling lonely. We pick up the phone to those in their time of need. We reply to essays from someone when they need to vent their frustration. We have learnt to give a hug in so many different ways than just putting our arms around someone.

It is strange to think that when the world is at it’s darkest, it feels that humanity is having to keep its distance from one another. That is not how I see it though. Humanity is showing it’s love for one another. In so many different ways. We want to keep each other safe. I am aware that people have different limits and boundaries when it comes to Covid. So, to me, one person saying, “I will be round whenever you need me” could show as much love as someone saying “I do not feel it’s safe to meet you for a walk today.”

I’m trying my best to focus on the good. And to be honest, even though some of the time the world around me seems incredibly sad and bleak, the rest of the time I am overwhelmed with the love I see around me. I hope with all my heart that you can see that love too.

And for those of you that have been worrying throughout this entire blog post about whether David’s hands have suffered from the incredible amount of hand sanitiser I make him use, they have not. He has purchased moisturising hand sanitiser and his hands are still ten times softer than mine. You can rest easy tonight.