ISOLATION DIARIES PART 13: RULES

“I know it’s a bit naughty,” said a colleague on the phone, “But I’m driving to see my girlfriend this weekend.”

My heart sank a little bit. Earlier I’d been at the the park entrance, standing in front of a big new government poster. It proclaimed that:

“The only reasons to leave home are:

(/) to shop for basic necessities or pick up medicine

(/) to travel to work when you absolutely cannot work from home

(/) to exercise once a day, alone or with members of your household

(x) do not meet others, even friends or family”

I miss my family. I miss everyone. I miss glinting eyes and warm hands, smiles and handshakes. I miss the way my nephews throw themselves at me when I arrive at my parents’ house. I miss restaurants and laughter and church and hugs. I miss feeling loved in a heartbeat, and the playful tap on the shoulder or the soft punch of the arm. I even miss the way Tim used to stand up behind the partition like a meerkat and take the mickey out of me. I miss people terribly. But especially my family. Especially my friends. And I’m very much alone.

“What would Boris say?” I asked cheekily, hiding my surprised annoyance.

“I know, I know,” he said, “But I’ve got my line sorted if I get stopped.”

Love really is blind then! But why should the rules only apply to some of us? Why is it okay to risk other people’s lives for the sake of ... a romance? I don’t want to die because someone else couldn’t resist a kiss. And neither should anyone have to! But if this is going on around the country, then what hope is there? The more I thought about it the more upset I was getting. Now, I don’t want to be upset with my friend - he’d probably say (and I didn’t push it far enough to find out) - “Ah Matt, you’d feel differently if it were you...” though I’d hope not. The point is that it isn’t me. And if it were, and he were me, I think he’d be pointing out how selfish it is to me anyway.

Well. For a fleeting moment, I felt tempted to throw in the towel, break the rules and go and see my parents. But I’m not going to - because that’s exactly how this virus survives - transmitted person to person, the fear of missing out, the dreadful thought of loneliness, the implanted idea that we are all alone, pulling us together where it can spread. I don’t wish to be infected by resentment down a phone line, any more than I wish to be affected by the real virus.

And neither should you be, so for every reason I can think of, please, please stay at home. And if you need me, you’ll know where I’ll be.