In Pandemic: “Life.”

“It’s almost a year since the pandemic started.” Such words flew from my mouth like a cold sigh through the summer breeze. I wasn’t taking it, and I’m pretty sure that no one else is. But maybe it had been the usual stir of coffee mugs whirring coffee beans and creamers, but it might also have been the blurring between the lines of classroom and home, rest and work. I breathe out, this time much heavier than an exhale but lesser than a sigh.

I closed my eyes, and at that split second, I envisioned a world where everyone’s free to go out again and continue to live freely — may it be through fighting for an advocacy, working for the family, or simply living happily; these were things that not only I longed for. I imagined a world where the economy isn’t going down the drain, where the poor aren’t heavily oppressed. But sadly, as I open my eyes again, I’m beckoned back to reality, and it had been less sad than this before.

I breathe in deeply while gathering my thoughts, patience, and myself. Being in a pandemic is a fight in itself. Back then, we were only aware of scars that wars would give us, bruises because of injuries and pain because of blood. Now, the world is bleeding, but we can’t see it. I used to bleed too. I remember sleepless nights worrying about the world and what it had become, worrying that I’ll be alone in this whole pandemic, and worrying that it’ll be months till I see the sun shine on me again.

It wasn’t long until I found myself smiling at my laptop, a whole new world that we never knew would connect us. Now, the battle scars are rooted within our minds; the fight inside us is tougher since we don’t know who we’re against. I learned that people should’ve had a premium on their mental and psychosocial health; because now, we’re fighting against ourselves too. No longer, a flicker of the screen and soon after pressing the join button. I’m greeted by a sea of faces that I knew was familiar to me. They were my sword and shield in the fight against depression and social disruption that we tend to overlook during these times. They were my friends who kept my world intact and made me feel safe as we hung out in the digital world, sharing stories of whatever we had to do, things that we had to prepare for.

“Welcome to the safe space,” one of them says. I grin at the idea; it’s like a party of adventurers fighting against a smokescreen and a toxic cloud. And in the population of the world, partying up did lessen casualties. It’s amazing; it’s as if I was playing a video game. Then something struck me, now that I’m all ready and fine, what’s the next step? No longer than a split second, the answer came to my mind. The answer was there, that I have to beat the boss in the dungeon, I need to pound the mountain that’s blocking out the sun, I need to flatten the curve. And the biggest lesson that one could have is to be there for each other, lessen casualties brought about by the virus and other battles the pandemic brought, and guide each other on the safety guidelines.

There was something about the power to continue studying during the pandemic. Moreover, my friends were aware that there was something that we held as we got to talk online. I later realized that there was more to flattening the curve, that being safe alone wasn’t enough. After patching myself up, I realized that I held so much privilege more so at this point.

“We are humans, and as much as we are, humans are social creatures,” the voice of my professor rang in my head as if I didn’t have enough homework to consume the past few weeks. “It must’ve been the books.” I laughed while my friends were on the screen, talking about their frustrations about requirements and other things in life. It came to me that in this pandemic, more than ever, we are given the responsibility to take care of our society. This means that being safe alone, doing alone wasn’t enough for me. If we are going to flatten the curve, then it means flattening it together.

So I set out on a journey with my friends, creating donation drives, encouraging people to help with us through webinars, and helping ourselves too. There’s no other way because I hope to open my eyes with the same vision when I close them; I want to breathe fresher air. I want to be able to smile again, not at the screen but in front of people.

I want to live.