The One with Thoughts and Memories (from the Quarantine. The situation hasn't changed yet).

I am sitting on the terrace, on a Sunday afternoon in April. 

I live on one of the busiest roads of Rome, yet there are almost no cars around and the only noise is the eery blank sound of the Bank of Italy in front of us. At night, I can hear birds chirping and the silence is deafening. Up to a month ago, I used to wake up at 6 am every day because of the traffic noise. 

If COVID hadn't happened, I would probably be out, enjoying the city with some friends, or maybe packing up for going back to Milan for Easter. Instead, this day looks just like the twenty before it, and at least the next ten will all be the same. 

It is scary how much the days look alike - I remember very few things that happened over the last three weeks. Luckily, at times something funny happens, like the morning when my flatmate accidentally ate porridge with flour worms in it, or the time we decided to take the camera out and take silly pictures of us, with our eyebags and messy hair, forgetful, for a moment, of what is happening in the world. 

They say that after Easter we might be starting to go back to normal in the country. Nobody really believes it. It is more likely we will be quaratined until May, and things will not be back to "normal" for a very long time. 

I try not to think about it too much, because it can get overwhelming very easily and no one really wants to go through a breakdown in this situation. I wonder, though, when I will start working again, when I can go back to a somewhat regular routine, when I will be allowed to catch a train and see my parents and friends. 

I also wonder about a lot of other stuff. When will I eat in a restaurant again, when will I get an haircut? When will we start meeting new people again, without being too afraid that they might be contagious? When I will travel again for pleasure, staying in a hostel, visiting a new city; when will I see my friends who live abroad again, when, when, when, when...

I often think of all the places of the world I have visited and what they might look like right now; how eerie they must appear, emptied out from all the people, the noise, the chaos. I wish I could see them all, exploring the Alfama in Lisbon without the crowds; walking alone on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, greeting the Duomo in Milan with only the pidgeons keeping me company. Crossing the Charles bridge in Prague without anyone asking if I want a portrait, listening to the silence in the alleys of Sevilla; looking at the Colosseum at sunset, alone on the Palatium hill. How decadent the Berlin clubs must look without people in it, I wonder. 

Having way too much time on my hands and few distractions, I sometimes lose my cool and my mind starts derailing. In the past, I believed that situations like this would be the event that led me to patch things up with the broken relationships in my life. Living through it, I realize that was a wishful thinking. The last thing you want during an apocalyptic situation is to realize that some cuts can't be mended, so leaving everything as it is, is better.  At least for the moment. 

Going down through memory lane led me to appreciate myself more; my flaws, my positive traits, the times I was a badass, the times I should have stood up for myself. I wish I had been more outspoken, less nice, more determinate in getting what I wanted; I also wish I was a better friend in certain situations, or had given my friends better indications on what I needed. I wish I was more the kind of friend who pushes others to get what they deserve, as I wish my friends did when I needed it the most. It is easy to get lost or drawn in pain, and if you find a friend who can spot it when it happens to you, keep them close. There are not many around. 

Some of these realizations hurt, or sometimes it was like getting the first breath of fresh air when you come out of the water. 

I am sure I am not alone in admitting that this forced time of self-isolation brought many of us to look back at our life, revaluating some choices, relationships, friendships; some may decide to change career when they come out of this, others may break a relationship or form a new one.

We will all come out of this changed in some way, hopefully for the best. "Normality", whatever it was before, will never come back - but we can build a new one, one that suits us better.

View from the Australian New Parliament House, Canberra, July 2019.