Dear Pre-Pandemic Me,
I envy you. Like really envy you. Sometimes I close my eyes and relive our past, but I feel as though these memories don’t belong to me. They’re vaguely familiar, and yet I don’t recognize them at all. Perhaps they’re yours.
I close my eyes, and I’m sitting in a dim sum restaurant with my family. My mouth waters as I see carts roll through with buns. Suddenly, I’m aware of the crowd around me. Was I really this claustrophobic back then?
I go to sleep, and I’m sitting in the library at 1 a.m. with my friends. For every keystroke I make on my laptop, I spend five minutes telling stories and laughing. Was communal stress really that enjoyable? I don’t remember. Was I really this social…
Someone else’s memories cloud my mind. But I’m not sure if I was living in someone else’s body back then or if I am someone else living in my body.
I don’t think I can comprehend our life before last March.