08/18/2020
IN This Virtual World
I used to know you, my beautiful friend—the sound of your laughter, the glint in your eye when you were brazen and bold and sassy—that fuzzy halo around your hair as you stood in the sunshine—the crinkles and creases around your eyes when you smile. I knew you then, when I could see you… when I could see all the expressions and nuances that make you who you are. I miss those things now in this strange new virtual world.
Now I see only what you want me to see—the filtered highlight reel of your life—the snippets and snaps you choose to share in glaring technicolour. I stare at my screens more than I would like, hoping to catch a glimpse of the you I knew—fleeting moments captured in time.
Trapped in this virtual world where they tell me I am safe if I am away from you. Here I am, secure within these four walls, safe with the screen and the scroll. In this safe space, I have forgotten what it feels like to touch you. To embrace you in my arms, share a hug, feel your warmth and smell the familiar scent of your hair and the perfume you got for your birthday. I long to sit with you, side by side, and laugh; sharing secrets meant just for us.
I am safe in this virtual world they tell me. I must stay away to protect you, to protect me, to protect them. I trust what they tell me is real, and so like a good girl, I listen; safe inside with my screens and my scroll. But why doesn’t it feel safe? Why does it feel like I am slowly losing myself?
I am afraid of you now. I am scared of all that once was good. A hug seems like an attack, and I cross the street when I see you, so I leave my four walls less and less. Everything I need is here, a click or a call away. Imprisoned by my screen in this virtual world, yearning for a glimpse of the you I used to know.