March thirteenth, the calm before the storm.

The last day of class until my senior year.

A long storm of boredom approached.

The classroom, replaced by my bedroom.

The computer, slowly becoming my only tutor.

I sat there,

Day after day, month after month.

I drown in an ocean of my thoughts.

 Thoughts of living, outside, being with my friends, and restaurants.

I miss the feeling of the cold air on my skin when stepping outside on an early winter morning.

I miss my friends, who I share endless memories with.

I miss my bike,

of course, I like my car but nothing compares to riding down the deep, dark, empty roads when nobody else is awake,

I miss being alone by choice and on my own terms.

Masks hiding the smiles that were once present.

Muscles fragile as glass, sitting still for hours upon hours,

Week after week, month after month.

A year goes past.

And I still sit here wearing my mask.