Dear Spring Break 2020,

I hope all is well during these troubling times. During my long days in self-quarantine, I've been thinking a lot about you.

I've lost myself in the idea of your sunshine and warmth. I can only imagine the unadulterated fun we could have had, sipping vodka crans under a beach umbrella (because that's the only drink I know how to order).

But reality is far different from this fantasy.

Instead, I'm lying in bed, growing out a patchy and revolting isolation beard, drinking tepid coffee while trying to play Uno with my cat. I've opened the fridge seven times today, fully hoping for an edible snack to magically appear, when in reality, the only things left to snack on are mustard and expired ranch dressing. These are the times we're living in. This is the life I live without you, Spring Break 2020.

When I got in the shower for the third time today, it reminded me of the warmth of a resort hot tub in Cabo, all the people wading in it, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

I closed my eyes and played out a fantasy where the boys and I would be boolin' in the sun. We would be having a nice little kickback, watching TikToks together while hyping each other up to slide into someone's DMs whenever we see a girl dancing to "Funky Town" or "Vibe." Instead, the only DMs I'm sliding into belong to my sister's dog's Instagram account — because he's just such a good boy.

And even though you're largely a social construct, I was excited to see you. I was looking forward to the time I wouldn't be spending worrying about how I'm going to stay engaged in my studies when my classmates are lighting blunts and taking shots while on Zoom with their professors. I was looking forward to all the new pictures I was going to put on my Instagram or all the silly things I would've put on my private Snapchat story.

When I first heard that I wouldn't have you, I looked to the bright side and started planning hoodrat activities with my friends. Except we can't even do that anymore. But even if the coronavirus and the government allowed me to do hoodrat things with my friends, it just wouldn't be the same — you were supposed to be the hoodrat activities.

You were supposed to be the highlight of my semester. You were supposed to be my sole motivation to keep trying in school.

Now, you're nothing more than another thing that COVID-19 took from us.

Rest easy, buddy.

Sincerely yours,

Every Single College Student in America