The Loneliest Year: Part Nine

November 2020

I looked into The Gene Keys, and I was blown away, because it helped me recognize the shadow frequencies where my pain was coming from. I also continued my hypnotherapy sessions with Rachel, and gradually, I stopped waking up in incredible pain.

A German guy named Kai slid into my DMs on Twitter, and we went on a FaceTime date. He was incredibly sweet, but I didn’t feel spark.

I quit the singing class “taught by” Stevie Mackie, because it was annoyingly stressful, but I made a few friends from it.

On the night of the election, I wrote poetry instead of watching the news. I wasn’t interested in the drama surrounding it all. I just wanted the results.

While meditating on Saturday morning, I heard cheering outside, and I realized that it was about the election results. Joe Biden and Kamala Harris had won the 2020 election, and people all over Los Angeles (and the world) were celebrating. I sobbed tears of relief, and then I straight-up treated myself to a Breakfast Deluxe from McDonald’s.

Later that day, a double rainbow appeared in Los Angeles. Even God was showing up and showing out.

After seven months of quarantine, not being held by anyone had become unbearable. I reached out to some male friends that I trusted, and asked if they might hold me. Nothing remotely sexual; I just really needed to be held. It was a hard thing to ask. A few said “yes,” but none of them followed through. I briefly considered hiring an escort to hold me for an hour, but I was no-joke broke, and if I caught coronavirus, I wasn’t going to shell out $400 for it. I could catch it for free, thank you.

On the evening the election results were announced, I matched with someone on Hinge named Edward, and we cuddled while watching the first episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I was grateful for one hour of relief.

The next day, I saw that COVID-19 was surging in Utah, and I messaged Jesse again, asking him to simply let me know that he was okay. He never responded, even though he promised he’d never ghost me again. Even though it wasn’t the loving and fearless thing to do.

In my hypnotherapy sessions with Rachel, we did inner child work. I hugged my inner child as soon as I saw him, and he said that he felt safe with me and that love would come. And in another session, I uncovered three past lives. She also had me release some negative feelings I had about being alone during the upcoming holidays.

Two cute college-aged guys moved in next door, and I correctly intuited that they would become an additional bane in my already baneful existence.

I had a Sacred Union reading with Nailea Guerrero, and her cards confirmed all the messages I'd been getting throughout the pandemic: Focus on healing. Write and create. Divine timing. Miracles await.

My mom and I finally figured out how to video chat with each other via Skype, and I got to see her and my dad for the first time since Christmas.

I self-taped for Call Me Kat, Shameless, and a bartender role on Good Trouble.

COVID-19 cases were on the rise again, and L.A. went back into lockdown.

After nine months of not cutting my hair, I looked like a black Bob Ross. And I didn't hate it.

I re-downloaded Grindr, and I fooled around with a guy named Graham, who was certain he was free of COVID-19, because he got tested regularly for his restaurant job. Afterward, I was sad, because I didn’t feel anything at all when we were together, and I wondered if I’d ever find what I found with Jesse again.

On November 11th, while listening to frequency music on YouTube to attract true love, I received a message from a devilishly handsome guy named Cesar on Tinder. After a week of chatting, we agreed to meet in person, because he’d already had COVID and was (maybe) immune. By this point, if he gave it to me, I was somewhaaaat okay with dying.

I drove to Santa Ana to pick up Cesar for our date, and we had a picnic in my apartment. He was sweet and smart, and we cuddled and kissed, and for the first time in a year, I felt something close to what I felt when I was with Jesse. And at the end of our date, we both said we wanted to see each other again.

Two days after my date with Cesar, a psychic on YouTube described my connection with him in alarming detail, down to our age difference and the short distance between us. She also said that there would be a wedge we had to overcome, but not to worry—it would take care of itself in time.

That same week, I discovered black cherry ricotta cheesecake, I tested negative for COVID-19, and I competed on the game show Chain Reaction with my team, The 90's Squad. Randomly, one of the other contestants was a guy I went on a date with once. Later, he texted me that I was one of the kindest people he’d ever met while he was dating.

The weekend after our date, Cesar went away with friends, and I wanted to give him space to enjoy their company, so I busied myself by writing a song inspired by him. As I was composing, he texted me, "How are you?" And I smiled, because he was thinking of me, too.

Because of Cesar, I found a new motivation. I started jogging daily again. And I finally cracked the problem with my script re-write with Darren when I realized we had two stories in one script, and we could separate them into two separate pilots.

After the weekend with his friends, Cesar became oddly distant and difficult to reach.

On Thanksgiving Day, I splurged at Whole Foods, and I feasted alone in bed while binging the entire first season of Ted Lasso and crying at its brilliance. When I finished the series, I tweeted about how amazing it was, and Jason Sudeikis liked my tweet.

Cesar canceled our second date the morning of, after I’d already driven an hour to Santa Ana. We talked in my car, and he explained what was going on, and told me that he wasn’t in a place to date. I respected where he was at, but I was also devastated, and I cried the rest of the day. I never knew I could cry so many tears—not just in one lifetime, but within the span of a year.

The next morning, inspired by the show Ted Lasso, I woke up and I taped “Believe” Post-Its all around my apartment, choosing to believe that Cesar would come around and eventually date me.

That same week, I started experiencing intense sinus pressure, but without any congestion. It was so terrible, it felt like someone was trying to rip my face off, and it made meditation impossible. I was literally unable to relax or find peace in the present moment. Every time I tried, my face would throb.

Then, to top it all off, my glasses disintegrated without any provocation, and I had to pay $300 for new ones. Like, read the room, glasses. Seriously.

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Part Ten:

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Note from the Writer

This is part nine in a thirteen-part essay series that details my year in quarantine from March 15, 2020 to March 15, 2021. If you enjoyed this essay, I hope you'll add a heart and continue reading the other essays in the series.

Tips are not mandatory, but greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading.