I was not actually thinking of it until I felt like I was asked to write about it, so here it comes. At quarantine I wasn't living that much but I was feeling so much, emotions which I learned to name during therapy, that I do for a long time now, but I forgot because for a really significant amount of time I haven't been dealing with myself alone, but I have a thing I learned about me. I like to feel the Sun. So this day I got up at my regular time, 8:30 a.m., and while I was doing some hibiscus tea, I turned my face and saw this sunlight shinning on the plants in my backyard. Then I put the tea in a cup and went to see the sun, I stood there for about 10 minutes with my eyes closed, just meditating. Hence, I decided to repeat this in the following mornings. For the whole week I woke up around 8:30 am, made my tea and went see this slit of light that illuminated the plants I myself planted a couple years ago willing to control my anxiety, it worked, allied with those things you know. It's funny how this light always shone over there, but I never really paid attention to it. It felt like a refuge, it felt a lot alike to be free. Whatsoever, this other day started raining and instead of being in the backyard doing my brand new routine, I started to scroll my social media feed and saw this post about eternalize your experience and memories by writing about it, so started digging into my memories everything that happened at home during quarantine and felt like an obligation to expose this experience, nothing was wrong. On the other hand, everything couldn't be more in the right place with my parents and sister, beside this week that was a month ago, which I lost two dears friends, not because of Covid, but because of it, we could not say a proper good bye, in fact, thousands of people out there couldn't offer their condolences to their loved ones. On this week I felt a darkness inside me, I felt sad for my friends, guilty and angry at those who were not respecting the social isolation, how come people could be this selfish knowing that every day thousands and thousands of people die in such drastic ways, the doctors and nurses were working twice as hard and people were struggling to survive. Nevertheless, I was lucky to be able to stay at home and connect with my family in innumerous possibilities, some good days, some bad days, in general, more good days than bad ones. So today, for the tenth time my sister did those chocolates with strawberries tartlets that she learned on the internet, those little pies where we find at bakeries and are incredible easy to make. Bakery, you just lost a client. Today, for the thirtieth time my father made his mind that he had to fix something that was not even broke. Today, for the fiftieth time my mother decided to clean up all the closets and cabinets of the house, it was a pile of useless papers to throw away, books from my school time, some History didactic books, that made me wonder about what history books will be like 10 years from now, another pile of clothes to donate, pieces which we didn't even remember, that we kept just in case this specific trend would be back and clearly didn't fit us anymore. Also today, for the thousandth time we laughed at my sister that if she doesn't do a standup comedy after quarantine, I'll do it for her, she's the most hilarious person I know, she makes fun of everything, the strange way I sleep, the weird habits my mother has, about how everything makes me cry, the weird habits our father has as well and every day she captures something different in all of us. Back to my daily routine, after this summer rainy day, very common here at this two degree below equator line city, I got back to my mourning ritual. Tea, Sun, meditation. After that I sat in front of my computer in my white desk seeing my bedroom's off white wall with some photos and random drawings on it, started working and an idea to write came to me and it reminded me this feeling of gratitude, but how can I put this feeling in a not boring and cliché words? I'm healthy, my parents are healthy, I'm at home, We are closer than ever. I'm lucky. What is all that noise? I can't believe it. My mother decided to change the paintings from wall and the furniture to different spots. Yeah, I think this kind stuff will be very common from now on, at least until the quarantine is over.

Not a long time ago, I was living the dream. I was in Canada, for the first time, as an exchange student, and everything seemed perfect. I was having the time of my life when the pandemic started. No one had any idea of what was about to happen. On that Friday, March 13th, I had my last day of school. I didn't even know it was the last, I wasn't prepared for it to be the last. I had to stay at home for another week when the bad news came: I had to go back to Brazil. I was devastated. I didn't know what to do or what to say, so I just cried. I spent hours crying, just acknowledging that my dream was over. After that, I tried to see the bright side: I would be with my family, in my home with my lovely dog, what could be better? Honestly, I didn't think it was that awesome. I wanted to stay, so bad, but not everything goes the way we want. So I decided to cope with that doing what calmed me down, such as washing my hair and painting my nails. Silly activities, but very effective for a 17-year-old. What broke me even more after that was that I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to my wonderful friends. People that I would hardly see after that year, and I couldn't even hug them and tell them how special they are for me. Of course, I called them and told them everything that I wanted to say, but still, it wasn't the way I imagined it would be. I feel that now we are becoming more distant, and I am afraid that those friendships are going to fade away. Also, I didn't get to do everything I wanted. There were so many places that I still wanted to visit, foods to try, things to buy, people to meet, and experiences to live. I loved every single moment I had there, and every experience, especially those who were so different from Brazil. However, I still can't accept that it was enough. This idea doesn't seem to get off of my mind. It is too hard to accept. I told my parents that I am better now, and I really am. But, there are so many feelings stuck with me that I can't seem to make them go away. There are still nights that I cry. I cry a lot for all of this that I lost, all because of a tiny thing that we can't even see, and that has destroyed and is destroying so many lives, in many different ways. So I got on a plane on March 26th, just one day before all flights to and from Brazil were going to be cancelled. Many of my friends had to leave as well. But even by knowing that, it hurt the same way. It was hard saying goodbye to my host family. Four amazing women that helped me through everything and made me feel that I was at home, with my own family. I even gave them a Brazilian flag, so they would remember me as much as I remember them. I spent 10 hours on that plane, and I kept thinking about how life was going to be after that. Before, everyone was so certain of everything, but now, we have no idea what tomorrow is going to be like. There is no clue of what the future might bring. And that scares me but also gives me hope. Hope that people can change for the better and that all of this is going to be a crazy/sad story to tell to my children.