The rain pitters and patters against the window, the dark storm clouds rolling in while thunder roars in the distance, making as loud of a noise it can do, as all it wants is to be recognized. The rain is the storm’s tears, expressing how sad it is due to being ever so lonely all these years. I sit on my bed, staring at my blank screen, not knowing how to even start on a random assignment, an assignment I wouldn’t have worried about in 2019. I stare out at the window, knowing I can somehow relate to the storm that screams out with its powerful thunder; something I wish I could do, jumping from seventh grade to already being in my junior year of high school. 

No one really talks about Covid-19. At least, how much of an impact it has made on society. Of course, the pandemic changed everything. Everyone knows that. How it changed the workforce and how people never want to work anymore, how it affected the prices of everything, how it affected school, jumping from physical to online in the span of three weeks – but no one expands on it. And to me, it’s so hard trying to comprehend that just four years ago – which doesn’t even feel like four years ago – I was a seventh grader in middle school, who still had the same friends, and still lived in the same town I grew up in. It’s funny, as to how naive I was back then, and how mature I am now. 

It definitely sounds cliche, talking about my “improvement in maturity and brains,” because ‘Of course I’ve matured!! It’s been four years since 2019 ended!!’ but that’s not why I like talking about it. I realize that with age comes maturity, but it’s the way I watched myself grow up these past few years that I become fixated on. I can barely tell you what happened during quarantine, only the key moments. But what I can say is that it was just a moment in time, disappearing like a dandelion flying in the wind. When I was in seventh grade, I wanted to do nothing but laugh with my friends, and watch those cringey game playthroughs while I drew fan art. I also wanted to be 16 so badly, thinking I would have so much freedom like teenagers in those rom-com movies do. 

I wanted to have a sweet 16, I wanted all of my friends to make a huge surprise party, gifts coating the party table while my three-tiered cake made its way to me, carried by my loving mother, ever so proud of me. But, dreams don’t come true. It never happened – the party, that is. None of my friends got together and surprised me, I never got the millions of gifts, and I certainly didn’t get the freedom I dreamed of.

Another funny thing about time is how it can change people so easily. It’s like pressing a button, not even thinking about the outcome after pressing the button. I mentioned those friends I had in seventh grade, and those friends meant the absolute world to me. I loved them. However, when Covid began, I moved away; all the way down to Arkansas. My first mistake was believing my friends loved me back, that time wouldn’t change what we had. 

We hung out one last time before I moved away, one last time with my old friend group. We chose to go on a hiking trail, and have a picnic by our favorite lake; in the end, it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. Another funny effect of time, it never goes how you want it to, and it’ll just bite you in the butt later. To summarize, none of them paid attention to me, and even judged me when we talked about personal things such as my weight, my personal identity, how I feel about myself, everything intimate you could share with someone: and I was judged for it. When my friends were dropped off at their houses, none of them even hugged me or said goodbye to me – it felt like I was a dog on a leash that they were forced to bring. And I was hurt — I ended up dropping them, and getting into a toxic relationship with one of my old friends. Of course, I ended up leaving him too. For good reasons. 

All of that happened in 2020, four years ago in two months. I wish I could go back in time and stop it for just a few seconds, and tell 12-year-old me that “It’s going to be okay; you just need to stay strong for these next few years, at least until you turn 16 – which will go by way quicker than you expect it to.” The new goal is to make it until I turn 18, but this time? I think I’m going to make it. 

I miss all of my old friends, and I miss all of the opportunities I could’ve had if Covid-19 didn’t happen, and time was allowed to slow down and take its course. But if the pandemic never did happen, I would’ve never met any of my friends I have today; friends that I know will be with me for a very long time. Friends that I know love me back. I would’ve never expected to find a love for journalism and even want to follow a career in it when college comes around. 

Time is funny. In some moments, it can be a rainstorm using its thunder to express its emotions, the rain throwing itself against a glass window. But in some moments? It’s the sunshine after a storm, rainbows in the sky while the sun’s rays warm my skin. Its message is kind compared to the sad message the storm carries, saying that even if time flies by, not allowing a single person process what on earth is going on half of the time? It’s okay to have hope for the future, even if you don’t know if time is going to pass on by, or if it’ll finally be okay to take it slow, for just one day.