The Loneliest Year: Part Two

April 2020

After Jesse broke my heart in November, I lost the motivation to work out and eat healthy. Now the gyms were closed, and I was limited to at-home exercises where I used candles as barbells. Committed to getting back to my former fitness level, I signed up for a healthy meal service named Fit-Meal Fit-Life, and I used half of my $1200 stimulus check to pay double the price for a set of adjustable dumbbells. I did the math, and I figured if I didn’t go to the gym for a year and a half, I would recoup the expense.

In addition to the stimulus check, I was approved for unemployment, which alleviated immediate worries about my finances.

I dropped off a care package to my friend, Tina Thomas, who’d been there for me as I recovered from both heartbreak and an appendectomy in January. Tina ran outside when I texted her, and we talked in person, wearing masks, a full street width apart.

On my fifth date with Joseph, I drove to meet him at his apartment. He ate in his kitchen, and I had Arby’s on the raised deck outside of his kitchen window. After we finished eating, I taught him how to play “Heart and Soul” on his keyboard by describing the notes and fingering to him. Before I left, a bird pooped on me. A good omen.

Once I finished Touch, I resumed watching Malcolm in the Middle from where I left off in season five. Everyone was posting about how all they did was watch TV and movies non-stop. I only watched one, maybe two episodes per day—during a meal or before going to bed.

I rediscovered chips and salsa (and perhaps my truest self in the process).

Two weeks after quarantine began, the air quality in LA drastically improved, and I started going for daily walks which gradually grew from thirty minutes to an hour. I wore my earphones, and I listened to music. Mostly Broadway musicals: Westside Story, Sunday in the Park with George, and a lot of Pippin.

One day, I got my umbrella and walked in the rain. Nobody was outside, so I danced as I walked.

On another walk, I reached 10,000 steps, and as I was singing “Walk in the Light,” a woman stopped me from her car to tell me that I had a beautiful voice.

Every day, I took pictures of flowers, and I found a strange sense of peace in the stillness of it all.

The earth was healing, and so was I.

I only drove my car once a week to keep the battery healthy. Besides that, I walked around the complex where I lived and to the grocery store. That was it.

I completed extremely rough drafts of both TV pilots with my writing partners.

I recorded a small part in Michael Varrati’s virtual short film, Unusual Attachment, which was all filmed via Zoom and FaceTime.

Joseph and I watched Legend together via Zoom with slightly out-of-sync audio. He seemed somewhat distant that night, and afterward, we stopped dating. He said he was too stressed from the pandemic. I was a little bummed, but we still texted every now and then as friends.

Soon after, I went on a few FaceTime dates and a socially-distanced walk with a handsome casting director I asked out via Instagram.

I met my L.A. mom, Phyllis, at her place in the canyon, and we walked for hours—socially-distanced and masked. While we walked, she received a text from Paul Reubens (aka Pee Wee Herman), and my inner five-year-old did a cartwheel.

I called my parents back in Georgia more often. After reading the Bible to me one day, my dad told me I was a good writer, which surprised me. He told me that my mom showed him my Facebook statuses sometimes. I never knew.

I discovered that the chord progression for “Heart and Soul” is the same progression for “I Will Always Love You,” and I texted Joseph about it, excited to share it with someone.

I started running at night for cardio. I’d never run outside before, and I hadn’t done cardio for months. It was rough. I’d run for three minutes, and then walk for two until I reached twenty minutes total.

I spent two full weeks organizing and backing up twenty years of computer files. Because if not during a global pandemic, when?

When asked to perform for free virtually, I began to decline. I liked having my time to myself.

I bought two round-trip tickets home because they were insanely affordable, not knowing that months later, I would cancel them both, because the pandemic would stretch well into the holidays.

I started going on video dates with a law student named Marcus who lived in New Zealand.

I also went on an in-person date in L.A. with a guy named Melih from Istanbul who bore a slight resemblance to Armie Hammer. We met for a socially-distanced walk, and afterward, we slept together after he invited me up to his place for coffee. The sex was terrible, and I felt guilty although we’d both been quarantining.

I took a gamble on some Trolls-themed mini-cupcakes at Ralphs, and it paid off deliciously.

I watched a few segments of Stephen Sondheim’s 90th Birthday Special on YouTube. Bernadette Peters slayed “No One is Alone,” and it struck me in a different way as I spent quarantine alone without Jesse.

I soon developed a routine where I went for walks in the morning and ran at night. My runs became easier, and eventually, I could run twenty minutes straight.

I started an online solo show workshop taught by Drew Droege.

I watched North by Northwest for the first time. The plot was insane, but after a month and a half in quarantine, it seemed about as likely as anything else.

I finished watching the final seasons of Malcolm in the Middle, and Dewey became my favorite character, because he ended up having the most heart.

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Part Three:

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Note from the Writer

This is part two 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.