Happy one-year anniversary, COVID-19


Chloe Houwman

One year with COVID-19 deserves a special celebration, a cake should do it justice.

Anna Engels, Feature Editor

Happy one-year anniversary to the love of my life, COVID-19. Although we have had our ups and downs, you made this past year of my life appalling.

Sorry, I meant appealing.

One year of your presence consumed me with more emotion than I had ever experienced in my monotonous life; one year of nothing but pure happiness.

“Time flies with those you love” doesn’t apply to our nonetheless, uneasy relationship. You single-handedly made this one year feel like five by allowing me to forcibly mature under your watch. You not only made the concept of time slow nearly to a halt, but gave me nothing to replenish this gap of plentiful space with. You blessed me with a congested house, yet an empty void of numerous hours waiting to be filled. You influenced me in a way that I can never verbally complain about boredom again, so thank you. 

That’s all I can say. Thank you. Thank you for teaching me that family is valuable by depriving me of their hugs for months. Thank you for making depression so widespread it became the norm, just so those struggling wouldn’t feel like outliers. Thank you for taking the time to humble the “prime-time” of my life. Thank you for changing the way people view the world and giving our children another chapter in their history classes (they will be sure to thank you for that as well). Thank you for taking away jobs and ultimately robbing our economy. I’m in sheer disbelief that you found me, and even more in awe that you decided to dwell on the circumstances in order to strictly benefit my well-being. Have I thanked you for that yet? I applaud your selfish actions towards me, my life and the ones lucky enough to experience it furthermore.

Sorry, I meant selfless

I remember the first time someone mentioned your name. At that moment you were nothing more than a mysterious phantom plaguing people’s minds; in mine, you weren’t real. No one thought you would reach us, but within months you swept our country with fervent confusion and passionate hysteria. Little did I know, you would etch imperishable memories throughout my brain, and lead me to believe that I couldn’t live without you. With me wrapped densely around your finger, I voluntarily gave up my social life to abide by your generous love; not thinking twice about putting you before myself. 

Your bountiful gifts, since I have met you, are incomparable to anything I have ever encountered before. Your arbitrary acts of generosity began momentarily after I recognized your allure. They started off simple, and briskly deepened into a massacre of my thoughts and feelings. Your gift of silence was the first to arrive, tied neatly in a bow. You left me, and everyone surrounding me, astounded when your appearance became more than a hoax, and a wave of tranquility shattered the world. Next, came a present I never thought I would acquire: relief. Relief of withdrawing the new fad, masks, also granted by you, after a prolonged day of maddening suffocation. This was a concept, unvalued until you made it a desire. The gifts kept coming, and they kept getting more extravagant.

A lifetime is hardly long enough to cram in all the plans I have for us and our erratic future. I feel as though I know everything about you, but at the same time, I know nothing about you. I want to know why you chose to annihilate a portion of the human population. Or how you managed to monopolize nearly every conversation at family dinner tables. Only inhumane people could get close to admiring your work, yet you are utterly fascinating in your ambiguity. You are the most notoriously hated occurrence possibly ever in human existence, and I can’t comprehend how you managed to do it. Our future seemed to have no end because no one could appear to tame you.

It took all but 365 days to find a cure for your contagious love, after spreading it from town to town, house to house. Although the cure isn’t unrolling as fast as your captivating influence on me, it is healing many open wounds you violently imposed upon people around the world. It has been one notable year, but you won’t be staying for a second. Thank you for all that you have done for me and every other grieving family. You will not be missed.

Sorry, I meant will be.