I’ve generally never felt like I needed people around me on a regular basis. In fact, more often than not, I need my alone time. March 11 was the last day I was in the office before I began working from home full time. I work from home a lot, so the first few weeks didn’t phase me. The state went into lockdown, closing non-essential business, and I was fine. By the end of March, I had even come to terms with the fact I wouldn’t get to see Italy for the first time like I planned.

It wasn’t until we stepped into April when the sun consistently showed, the flowers started to bloom, the birds started singing, and temperatures stayed unseasonably warm, that I felt the effects of everything starting to build in me. Typically, the Seattle area doesn’t get this nice so early in the year. It’s making me ache for the summer I’ve been waiting for since October.

Another blow came when my company furloughed over 10% of the company for the next three months. I’m not furloughed, but those of us staying will have our pay cut for the next three months. They tell us this is a conservative estimate to ensure our furloughed colleagues can return. This amount of time scares me. Three months from now puts us in late July. Though there’s no telling if the planned return of my colleagues and the time needed to social distance coincide, the thought of distancing deep into the most beautiful season of the year hurts.

I try not to think about it, but I can’t help it sometimes. Summer is when we can enjoy sunsets past 9pm. It’s when we can sit on the soft green grass of an amphitheater,  listening to a favorite band. It’s when we can catch happy hour on the floating deck of Ivar’s as boats and kayakers drift by on Lake Union. It’s when we can float lazily down the river, absorbing the sun and water in one. It’s driving through the mountains with the windows down, sun streaming through the car and the music blasting. It’s shorts, sandals, and tan lines. It’s drive-in burgers and shakes. It’s hikes and camping. It’s the smell of bonfire smoke on your clothes. It’s enjoying a wine tasting on a sun-drenched patio. It’s barbecues and fireworks. It’s sipping a beer while you watch baseball and the sunset, simultaneously. It’s strolling around the farmers market, smelling the fruit and admiring the beauty of the flower bouquets. It’s festivals, movies in the park, and car shows. It’s backyard hangs and home projects. It’s people watching at the beach. It’s picnics in the park. It’s road trips. It’s ice cream cones.

So while I’m not always the first person to need people around me at all times, I do need the things I experience with other people. The experiences I look forward to each year, and sometimes take for granted, is what enriches the memories I have with the people in my life. I do miss my friends and family. But most importantly, I miss the things we do together.