Michael and I met three years ago at a restaurant located right around the corner from my then-apartment in Birmingham, Michigan. I was designing and planning a wedding for the chef and owner's daughter, and he worked at the restaurant as a waiter.
In the final weeks of wedding planning, Michael and I spent more and more time around one another. There were glances and subtle flirtations, but nothing that hinted at whether he'd noticed me as I had him.Once the wedding was over, we stayed in touch. Finally, I gathered the courage to ask him on a proper date. He accepted, and I was determined to impress. I planned a lavish picnic on a beautiful Friday afternoon; I am an event planner, after all.
Then, my life took a turn. As gruelling as 2020 has been due to the COVID-19 pandemic, 2019 remains the hardest year of my life. My grandmother, who adopted me at the age of 3 and whom I took care of for the last decade of her life, started having serious health issues in January. She passed away soon after, on February 6, and from there forward the entire year was a blur. Three months later, my stepfather passed away.
I suppose I’ve been in self-quarantine since then, months before any government mandate or shelter-in-place order was issued. I spent the holidays away from friends and family, holed up in my suddenly all too quiet apartment. I was gutted, stabbed in the heart by one and in the back by another. It was my first real heartbreak, and I had no desire to be around anyone. I transitioned from seeing my therapist in-person to participating in virtual sessions.