Whereas a large portion of the world’s population has had their lives forever altered (here’s a small way to help!), my family and I have been lucky enough to remain fairly unchanged. We are so fortunate and it feels luxurious to even complain about minor inconveniences and parts of pre-coronavirus life I miss while others have real struggles. Managing my mental illnesses has been difficult though, despite having constant contact with my immediate family members (including grandma and grandpa, though I haven’t been in close proximity with them). I haven’t felt the severe depression of my postgrad period, but my anxiety still peaks at arbitrary times. Of course, most of my unease is provoked by constant news about the coronavirus, increased daily deaths, people stuck in prisons and jails, white supremacists forcing the government to reopen states, and an overwhelming silent fear for my loved ones. My lone complaint or grievance with the past (almost) two months of quarantine is that I miss seeing my friends so much. Getting to spend small amounts of time with Brandon (we had a socially distant picnic last week!) is immensely therapeutic and I only wish that the rest of our pals could join in on the time together. I miss going out with Conor and Parker on the weekends—starting with a couple hours at Tchin Tchin (our favorite bar) and somehow always singing “9 in the Afternoon” at 4 a.m. when the karaoke bar is closing; having spontaneous dinners and picnics with Brandon, Kaiʻolu, Mikayla, and Parker at our most beloved places; forcing Kaiʻolu to hang out with us by showing up at her house; dancing at Manifest with Brandon and Parker when we’re all at an equal level of drunk; and sharing pizza and gossip with Mikayla at Pieology (there are obviously better pizza places, but that’s our best one). I know quarantining and staying healthy apart from each other is the most important act of love in the long run, so for now, I’ll reminisce on our most cherished times together and look forward to the ones to come.