By: G
(she/her)
The wake of the Coronavirus pandemic brought with it an unprecedented amount of pain and uncertainty- communities and lovers uprooted from each other’s lives- lovers torn apart because of the sealing off of global borders. Being forced into an isolated abyss in Europe propelled me to live with a long-term friend in hopes that I would find community support. While I was experiencing some elements of the pandemic stress, a lot of it was superseded and mystified by the blooming beautiful loving relationship I was enveloped in. I planned on staying with my friend just for a weekend, we the gave the “ uhaul lesbian stereotype a whole different meaning after the weekend turned into an entire year. Our relationship flitted between platonic connection and romantic union. During the nascent days of our new, unexpected relationship, we spent hours watching silly films and tiny desk concerts– appreciating the beauty of the world during a time that felt grueling and almost insurmountable. We both had such a deepest, mutual appreciation for music. Looking back, it’s quite insane that we spent months together confined in a one bedroom flat for over a year, during a pandemic. And even under those unorthodox circumstances, these were the most exciting, laughter-filled moments of my life. We experienced love as worship under the most forbidden circumstances.
More than anything, this relationship felt as though it distorted time and space. Every single night, we’d sit and talk about all of our deepest fears as well as yearning in one sitting over the most generous blunts she’d roll for us. Sex felt like transcendence. Like seriously, it’s insane to think about how well another human can understand your body, even more than your own self. Hours upon hours of social distancing and lockdowns enmeshed days and months into one. I felt so much guilt for enjoying a time that should’ve been universally dismal. The long-hours I spent doing mundane activities and even doing absolutely nothing with this woman felt like the most exciting undertakings. I would wake up to burnt coffee and milk smoothies she’d make for me almost every morning. And I would surprise her with gifts I thought she’d appreciate—rare vinyl records, paintings, plants in overpriced quirky vases. The seemingly small intentional gestures we mutually were invested in turned out to be the thread that held us together for months. When I vulnerably shared the deepest crevices of myself, I suddenly felt invincible. I felt seen, held, supported more than I ever have in my entire life–what’s more beautiful than being seen and appreciated for being your unabashed, unbridled self? I never once felt the love I received was conditional, contrary to my past platonic as well as romantic relationships.
We brought each other’s silly, inner child out to the fore. One of my most memorable moments in our play-filled COVID summer was when we spent the whole day childishly using our water guns to chase each other in the garden-running around wet, wrestling on the grass with no care in the world. Frolicking around in the crisp, wet grass covered in mud. Time stood still.
Love,
G