Dear World,

I remember the first time we ever hugged, our timid arms waiting for signal clearance.

︎

I keep thinking about space and how palpable it feels these days. Like I could drown in oceans in the six feet between you and me. Sometimes it feels like entire lifespans have existed in the steps you won’t take towards me. And I can’t hear you. From way over there, behind plexiglass and cotton.

I never imagined myself in a world that is so acutely aware of space and so drawn to creating distance; a habit I picked up years ago. I could count the seconds it would take for you to reach out to me, feel every one of my nerve endings against your fingertips. Touch is something, as humans, is done so effortlessly. For me, touch is a language I had almost no interest in learning. And now it’s a native tongue everyone else is trying to forget.

I’ve been told I’m well adjusted to the times. Sometimes I think I’ve just developed a way of looking fine. I remember the first time we ever hugged, our timid arms waiting for signal clearance at Howard. But the last time, we were so filled with love I remember understanding the hype after all these years. Where we once could fit entire highways between us, we held so tight there was barely room for the air we shared.

Now you’re halfway across the country, and no farther than everyone else in the world right now. Propped up a screen, a cropped version of a life I used to see in full frame.


Sincerely,

The Space Between Us