A part of me is you — pandemic blues
I am tired.
I am tired of staying away from people.
I am tired of wearing a mask.
I am tired of not being able to see my friends and hug the ones I do see.
I am tired of us being even more divided than we were before.
I am so tired of being cut off from other human beings.
I am tired of being judged for my crisis choices and I’m tired of being asked to choose between risking lives or cutting off a part of me.
A part of me is you. All of you.
A part of me is the guy working the front, downstairs, at this hotel, who is standing behind a sheet of plastic. A part of me is the housekeeper in the hallway that I will move away from as we pass each other and the businessman that would be having a cocktail at the bar if it were open. A part of me is the other children at the pool who stop us from swimming because my children cannot play with your children, or even be too close. A part of me is the person who thinks I’m their enemy because I’m white. A part of me is the person who belittles my daughter’s African American features or hates the feminine characteristics of my son.
A part of me is white and a part of me is black, and a part of me is neither white nor black.
A part of me is the ‘social justice warriors and the ‘far right’ — the ‘rioters’ and the ‘bootlickers’.
A part of me is red and a part of me is blue.
A part of me is the guy in the small shop who says “You don’t have to wear a mask if you don’t want to,” referring to the sign on the door mandating them-the one who tempts me to just let it all go and melt into the world. A part of me is the manager at McDonald’s that walks around enforcing the mask policy, reminding me how important it is to stay away from other people. A part of me is the person who stands way too close to me in the name of their freedom and the person who glares at me when I accidentally take one step too close to them.
A part of me is everyone, those who love me and those who hate me, those who understand me and those who do not, those who I understand and those who I do not.
I am tired of being afraid to get too close to myself.
I am tired of missing out on so many of the little connections with other people along my physical journey.
I am tired of things being so weird out there and I’m tired of not going.
I am tired of the blind agendas and the constant arguing.
I am tired of the virtue signaling, righteous indignation and moral hilltops. (Including my own)
I am tired of not letting my kids go out and play.
Most of all, I’m tired of feeling like I shouldn’t be tired and I’m tired of all the truth I can’t tell. I’m tired of having so little we can say without further separating ourselves from others. I’m tired of being so quiet and I’m tired of the world being so loud, repetitive and surface-oriented. I’m tired of the world covering up the problems and fighting over what the problem is instead of finding the solution. I’m sick and tired of band-aids and treating the symptoms of the problem instead of finding our way to the solution.
I am tired of us being so wrapped up in the problem, that we cannot see the solution.
I am exhausted. I am tired, so tired, of being so separated.
I love all of you and I love the world.
I love the world and its people and the way things feel when we’re together, so, so much that, if things stay like this for the rest of my life, I may mourn until it’s over.
I miss you, world.
Written by Holly Kellums