Seems like everyone I’ve ever known is in DC right now. Traveled here. At brunch. At protests. Masks on sometimes. Gathering.

I’m actually not shaming anyone. I’m just feeling like my isolation is starting to get to me and everyone will have had a Summer I can’t get back.

I haven’t spent time with anyone in person besides my partner, who lives with me. Since March. Not a visit with a friend. Not a relative. Because I thought that was going to be the social contract until we beat this pandemic. It was always a tough ask or expectation, I know.

We’ve been in public, of course. For my birthday last week, my partner and I drove out to Shenandoah. We were completely alone until Luray Caverns, where we kept social distance. It still felt like isolation.

Mainly, I come across other people in passing on the bike trails, on my weekend rides. Or on the occasion that I go to a store to pick something up, which happens maybe 2-4 times in an entire month. And I don’t do supermarkets at all.

This was always going to be difficult. I didn’t anticipate it would be made more difficult by observing so many people be so flexible, relaxed, and even nonchalant about social gatherings. It’s affecting me, especially since my uncle died from COVID in April. Again, not shaming.

Some days, I’m functioning almost like normal. Some days, a bike ride is able to make me feel less alone because I see other people out and about. I was totally unable to relax while out on my birthday though, even taking precautions. This has impacted my mental health.

My mother’s younger brother CJ died in April, due to COVID. My mother’s cousin Stevie died this month, due to COVID. They weren’t abstractions. They were our blood. They were breathing Black people. I just don’t want a mimosa and to be cute on U Street that much. Again, no shame.

And though I can rationalize my choice to continue self-isolating this way, the isolation is not easier.