Dear 2020,
What can I say about you that hasn’t already been said?
I mean, it feels like yesterday that Gronk took that Lego statue of Steve Harvey and smashed it to death. That was way back in 2019.
A year where we looked for greatness: excited that 2020’s Halloween landed on a Friday, commenting on how much fun we could have because of the calendar. That was when we loved you 2020. But, now, honestly, I don’t even know one person that still even likes you.
Easily, you win for one of the worst years in a while. And I mean that personally.
Ever since you started to go off the rails, my High School musical Xanadau got cancelled. I had a starring role as Girl On Bike. Yes, I filled in because someone else dropped out, but that one line was going to get me a free ride into Yale Drama.
But, can we really blame you, 2020? Will 2021 start and all of our troubles will be gone? Were the troubles we are currently facing not the ones we have already had before? Do we seriously think that once the ball drops, our curse will be lifted? COVID, racism, poverty, war, famine, that all of these things will disappear? Are we really that naive?
I believe we go too quick into blaming you, 2020. You, merely a measure of period time who has somehow turned into humanity’s scapegoat. We want to blame you because we can’t deal with the guilt for blaming ourselves.
Our fight against masks and social distancing laws over a veil of “freedom” has caused millions to fight for their lives. Our fight against each other and apathy towards injustice has caused centuries of irreversible systemic issues. Our fight against our political opponent has caused civil discussions to become obsolete and for debates to mutate into spectacles.
You were a year of terribly tragic bad luck. You have watched over my personal, communal and world-wide tragedies.
This was the year that felt like everything was stripped away from us. Our ability to grab lunch with a friend, our vacations outside of our rooms and even our loved ones.
As I type this, I am sitting in my room, which I’ve probably been in the majority of 2020.
Unfortunately for me, my closet is made out of mirrors. So, I am forced to stare at the person I am constantly. My tired eyes scare me because I thought I would get more sleep. My hair reminds me that maybe its good that no one sees me. My hairy legs double check this fact.
Now, instead of celebrating senior year with the classmates I’ve known for almost 13 years, I just stare at my own acne-ridden chin (those masks are really not great for a recovering user of Accutane).
I have been waiting for the majority of my life for Senior Read to Me, Battle of the Grades, Prom and I can’t even start with the Senior Revue. I could literally sit in my bed and cry if I start to think about all of the things I have lost, and that I could never get back.
At the same time, it is so privileged of me to complain about being bored during a pandemic.
Personally, when you think life couldn’t get any worse, it gets worse -- life just loves to throw tragedy at you. But, for the majority of the pandemic, I was complaining about being bored.
And what a wonderful thing that is. Worrying about “not having a proper senior year”, while some in our neighborhoods worry about having food on the table. Being so sad about missing your friends that you go to their houses without masks. You go to parties not knowing, or maybe not even caring, about the consequences. How terrible it is to be a bored teenager. While some complain about not having enough to pay for rent, we complain that one of our friends is “ruining the fun” by asking people to wear masks.
Maybe, 2020, you’re doing the world some good. You are exposing the world to our worst issues and our covered-up tragedies. By forcing us to separate, we have been forced to spend more time thinking. I don’t know if you can tell, but I have been thinking a lot.
2020, this was a horrible year but you have given us more interesting stories. And the movie about you won’t make any sense.
Ever since quarantine has started, I have been writing in a journal. Most of it is about my personal life, or my excitement for Timothee Chalamet on Saturday Night Live. But, there is one quote from March 19th that I wish to share with you: “This is day 5 of lockdown and I already feel my mind deteriorating … these days have flown by concerningly fast, I’m actually concerned that it is almost Friday. That literally makes zero sense”.
This is what you’ve done to people, 2020. You made them feel like the world makes no sense.
Like the year just started, while each month felt like a century.
Oh and, by the way, I hope we are in some sort of alternate reality because 2021 isn’t seeming so promising either!
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