Tomorrow is cancelled.

The last couple of days I can't stop thinking about how different my life could have been at this moment in time if coronavirus had never made an appearance. For too long now, I tried not to overthink over what ifs. I continued living every single day as it was coming my way. Today, I reached a point where I am predominantly concerned about all the things I had been missing out on. Today, I am kind of mourning. Mourning for the things we have lost during the past 6 months. All the things we will be keep missing for the following days, months, or even years.

I miss the personal contact with people. From my closest ones to my far acquaintances. I miss having conversations, laughing on each others shoulders without having to worry about our DNAs getting all mixed up, having a heart to heart with my besties. More than anything I miss sharing hugs with the people I love the most -and hugging them real tight! I miss kissing my grandma a dozen of times like I used to, getting lost in my grandpa's big arms. Lying in my dad's belly having forever conversations about life on a normal day, just as though I am still his little girl. Having the longest dinners with my mum under the stars of the pitch black sky in our back yard gossiping, screaming and laughing almost as if there is no tomorrow. Today, 'tomorrow' is not guaranteed. Tomorrow is not promised. And yet, we live today as if life would last for an eternity. We waste days, weeks, months.

I miss the obvious little every day things. Popping to the shops real quick without needing to buy anything just because I happened to be passing by, trying on as many clothes as I can hold on to and not buying anything in the end. Simply getting into a train -super packed or empty it doesn't matter- having a destination -short or long haul it doesn't matter- that would give life a meaning and living a purpose. Having a reason to actually put on some clothes, or at least wear a coat. Going for an afterwork drink with my friends as if routine cannot be any more given and regular habits are the new hot deal. Finishing an afterwork at 9 pm super drunk at Pizza Union for some delicious 5£ pizza and the longest queue at KX -following the Dishoom's one. Deciding on whether to go for a last min drink or not at 10pm on a Tuesday evening. My biggest daily worry to be 'Sushi or Lebanese for lunch'. Having a gathering at home, at a bar, a restaurant, in the street, at a far destination, an island with not just me and my plus one. Celebrating life!

I miss doing the things that we used to with my other half. Traveling the world fighting about who's showing whom the most new places. Going on a date and -typically us- being fashionably late. Eating out overpriced dinners without a reason and then trying to justify whether the food was indeed good value for money or a scam. Being silly around in general. The excitement of meeting each other on a Friday afternoon as if we haven't seen each other for ages [...] and then not being able to decide whether to go for drinks or dinner spending hours walking around the city streets being totally indecisive. Taking lift selfies actually looking good and all dressed up and not in pjs with a rubbish bag underarm. Doing simple tasks like our weekly shopping. Strolling around with the bike pretending to be gangsters on a weekend mission. Having to hold onto him after a long night out on high heels. Planning ahead thinking of life without the 'unknown' factor. Dreaming ahead of our little adventures and then making them true. Making things possible together in general.

I miss breathing the air. The feeling of the cold air penetrating my nostrils causing me hay fever and wetting my eyes, every single morning! The after shave smell of the freshly shaved men in the tube early in the morning while being stuck under their armpits. Talking to strangers without imagining that I am part of the 'Walking Dead' production cast. The bbq smell of a steak house while I am in fact impatiently waiting at the restaurant queue to be seated for over an hour. The toxicity of the busy London streets. I long the days where my Instagram stories used to feature more than books, cakes and my morning beverages. I never stopped being grateful to life. I count my blessings every single day. Still, I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. I miss this kind of safety of my daily routine's normality.

Today, tomorrow is cancelled.