I miss my old life. I miss my friends. I miss the regulars at Sunday night yoga–how we would all help the teacher close down the studio after the last class and linger chatting at the door. I miss my writing class in the LES studio apartment with a drafty window. I miss the bike shop and the blue cord I had to pull to ring the bell and get someone to come to the door. I liked my jobs. I liked doing them. I miss my old life.
But I don’t want to go back. Even now when I consider the option that tomorrow everything could go back to normal, I don’t think I would take it. There seemed to be something not quite right about my old life. It seemed to be unnecessarily difficult. I think it had something to do with not sleeping enough, not seeing the stars enough, not lying under trees enough, not being held enough. Anyway, I just wanted you to know, when we build a new world after this is over, I think we should have more of those things.