The world has stopped. No one comes and no one goes. Silent streets echo with ghostly whisper in the chilled unsettled air. A rare rumble of a vehicle engine breaks up the strange atmosphere. Cooped up with no place to be and nothing to do, except for hunching over my laptop continuing with online lectures for university.

Apart from that the days pass by listlessly, merging into a single blur. A whole year sneaks by and no one pays much heed to the events because everything is insignificant without being able to share the moment with the near and dear ones.

Another day, the same four walls. Slowly everything fades away lost in a restless and frantic mind. Phantom faces appear at the windows and mirrors taunting and goading my empty eyes. Appearing in the corners murmuring eagerly trying to make conversation, then there’s no one there.

Is there anyone who can save me now?

Troubled thoughts and a fragile soul, cling to any remains of the life before hoping to be kept a float by shattered fragments. To start with it wasn't so bad, a slight adjustment of the sails to keep in a straight line. Rising and falling with the sigh and rolling waves of emotion.

Until tossed into the abyss of a heaving ravenous ocean of torment, wind screaming through the wires and lines, sails snapping angrily. Huge waves leap aboard, unforgiving and baying for blood, spitting in the face of the sailor. Until it laughs as it rips the mainsail rope from the slippery grasp of torn hands sending it flying away letting the boom swing, violently lashing out at being kept at bay for so long.

Glorious warm sunshine vanished behind the midnight curtain, that rushed across the brilliant blue. There would be no more hope. Hold tight. In for the long haul.

Need a distraction. With shaking hands I pick up my phone, scrolling through the countless snapshots of memories. When I realise that even before the forced solitary confinement by the government, I was isolated and alone. A single friend, who remained a constant and an anchor to my wayward mind, could no longer be reached. Only the thin beam of light from a lighthouse could save this floundering ship; a text brightens the night, a morsel of hope.

Amongst the chaos of the maelstrom, a romance was rekindled. Romance is meant to bring light, love and someone to endure the storms with. Like spring butterflies that dance gracefully upwards, skipping through the cheerful fields of flowers. The scent of new life makes the brain go fuzzy with growing prospects. But what if… What if romance brings desolation, despair and self-loathing?

Serving quivering memories on a silver platter, quarantine brings out the worst of the mind. Offering up flashes of past abandonment, loneliness and fear. With no escape it traps you in the dark, running away with a black banner streaming. Laughing in glee that there is still hope for the emotions and memories kept safe in the deepest vault.

Breathe.

In- Hold- Out. In- Hold- Out. Focus on the weight going through my feet, ground myself.

In- Hold- Out. What colour is the emotion I’m feeling?

In- Hold- Out. I’m fighting a losing…No concentrate!

In- Hold- Out. What if I just reach out?

Reach out to what?

See the dull glint of metal, that’s what I’m reaching out for.

No, you mustn’t, remember what your therapist said!

But it felt so good, it was always there for me. Listened to me, let out all the built up frustration.

There are better ways of dealing with this!

Nothing feels better than watching a thin line appear, beading softly before shedding its tears.

Don’t do it! You’ve been clean for two years now!

Please? Just once.

Remember your other techniques; sketch, exercise, practice your piano, write. How long did you entertain it before you sought help?

Nearly, six years.

How long have you entertain the devil?

Fourteen years, nearly fifteen.

So please don’t listen to that little evil voice, listen to me you got this, just breathe. In those fourteen/fifteen years you have gained all the tools to resist the toxic lies of the evil voice.

Sorry, I’ll leave it be and put it out of sight.

Thank you.

Flopping down defeated, I stare at the ceiling feeling empty and alone. Haunted by the ghosts of the past, the ghosts of the present, offering arms of comfort only to be dispersed by a faint breeze.

What if I am nothing more than a flicker of something, absence personified. There but not there, easily forgotten by everyone. Replaced by bubbling laughter and wonderful memories. Maybe that’s why I am alone; can absence have feelings of remorse and lingering regret?

This lockdown brings out the best and the worst in people; I know it’s hard for everyone. Yet it’s excruciatingly hard for those who have had an entire support system yanked from beneath their shaky legs. Fought it once and fight it again, then maybe the true stars of love can find away to shine through.

Perhaps I should imagine what it would be like to have a social life, and if I’m lucky someone special, to pass the time.