Do you ever miss moments? Not the people or the time, just a specific moment. If there is one thing I'm missing during quarantine is those little moments with friends you usually forget about. The things that you never took the time to appreciate before because you never had to, There would always be another car ride, or night out, or walk around town. It was certain, not questionable. But being in isolation has me reminiscing on things I otherwise would have forgotten about. Here are a few of those little things and I challenge you to look for them in your own pre-corona life.

It's sitting on uneven concrete, overcome by overgrown vines and weeds. It's ants crawling around us yet not on us, crickets chirping quietly as background players. His guitar is hypnotizing, mostly him but partially me. His voice is rugged from sticky summer air. Yet, it's beautiful and peaceful and all the other ful's. Watching someone do what they love most is my favorite activity. This is his stress reliever and I merely witness to the magic. He makes faces while he plays to the imaginary audience of the frogs and the sleeping children all up in their cabins and beds. I feel lucky to be here.

It's 11 P.M. in a Waffle House on a Wednesday. We've been at this table for way too many hours and should've tipped the waitress more. The tables are sticky and we, all five of us, are trying to study in the cramped booth. We make up silly acronyms for the anatomy of the human neck for her test tomorrow. They play the same song for an entire hour on repeat, by the time we leave we all know all the words. We scream sing in the car driving back to campus. She knows she's going to fail her anatomy test but it was worth it. I feel lucky to have friends like these. This is what college should be.

It's on the other side of the world, wandering through the streets of Tel Aviv with a friend I never thought I'd see again. The way that his smile reaches all the way to his eyes and how sometimes his accent makes words sound so funny (I won't tell him when he pronounces things wrong though, it's sweet.) it almost felt like borrowed time, a cold winter walk in his part of the world after a summer in the warmth of mine. I can't describe it better than a Hallmark movie: too perfect for reality but just believable enough to keep you crossing your fingers for it. I miss him every day. I feel lucky for borrowed time.

It's a Saturday morning in our dorm room, more like a Saturday afternoon in our dorm room, and I climb into her bed to recount the night before. She has a lisp from her retainer and I have mascara all over my face. We try to plan out the day but end up spending way too many minutes just sitting and talking about any and everything. It's moments like that when you realize a stranger has become your best friend. Not the big moments, but the sweet Saturday scooter rides to Dunkin Donuts in your pajamas and the late-night hugs before bed (hours after you said you would go to bed.) I feel lucky to have met her, even if it caused a major lack of sleep.

So once things start to return to some sort of normalcy, pay attention to the way the air smells when it rushes through car windows, and how tight your best friend hugs you before that important meeting, and appreciate the sound of laughter not distorted by a computer. Life is so special, people are so special, find your own little moments.