It's the topic of every conversation. The headline of every news story. The thief of every thought. The trigger of every worry. The catalyst of the world's wake-up call: COVID-19.

Everyone (myself included) is exhausted from thinking, talking, and worrying about the silent killer that is upon the world at the moment. There are truly no words to describe how much turmoil this pandemic has inflicted upon the world in a matter of weeks, days, hours.

The world is suffering. Yes, there is a horrible pandemic inflicting lethal physical suffering among thousands across the world. And the rest of the world is suffering in unfathomable anxiety, uncertainty, and apprehension. We can't escape it; it's on our social media, within our conversations, and has intruded upon our own thoughts.

If you are not physically suffering from the horrific symptoms of COVID-19, that is a blessing in itself. However, you're most likely suffering from the fear of impending doom accompanying what's to come for the rest of us in the upcoming days, weeks, or even months--which, quite honestly, has been torturous in itself.

Parents are unemployed, kindergarten is online, and the streets are vacant. We could have never imagined a world such as the one we are living in right now.

This is not a sob story; this is a glimpse to show COVID shows no mercy across the human race. I am a college student, and I am aware us college students often feel invincible in our naive youth: believing we are indestructible and immune. I am a college student who has been affected by COVID. I am a citizen who has not been spared from the torments of this atrocious illness. And there's nothing I can do. We cannot donate money to stop this; we cannot evacuate to escape it. It's here, and it's furious.

Mid-March is always one of the most exciting times of year for any college student--especially seniors. The end of the year is approaching, and life becomes fuller. Everyone realizes how much time has passed since move-in day earlier in August and we begin to embrace the time left. We reminisce on the memories we've made throughout the year and ask each other how time has passed. We go to lunch with the friend we somehow grew distant from. We stay up until 4 am with the people we know we'll never accidentally see again after we walk across the stage. We deprive ourselves of extra hours of much-needed sleep because we're afraid we're going to miss something if we don't. We begin to realize everything we could have been doing all along. We say "yes" -- we say yes because we know we'll regret if we don't. We take a step back at an overcrowded, sweaty party to take a mental picture of what won't last much longer. This is when we realize our dreaded "lasts" have actually arrived.

COVID-19 deprived us seniors (and other students, adults, children, elderly, etc.) of our precious moments. We received one email that ended our precious moments with people we will never be surrounded by all at once again. When we were told to pack up and go home, reality hit. Our home we spent 4 years building was crumbling beneath our feet. We were angry, frustrated, desolate, puzzled, along with emotions we still cannot quite articulate.

So, what did we do?

We packed our bags.

And we left.

BUT before we drove away from this home that was once a foreign land to us, we did one thing: embraced each other. We shared stories from the past years, wiped away each other's tears, dropped everything and escaped to the beach for a day, while laughing to ease our confusion about how bizarre this life has become. We were shown what in this life truly matters.

We were awakened to what is in front of us: God's most beautiful creation--each other. How lucky are we to have such valuable memories, stories, and emotions to share with each other? We were not put on this Earth to go through the motions every day watching the days dance away from us. We were not placed here to wait until it's mid-March and it's almost too late to seize each day. Our paths do not cross with others' simply by coincidence--this life is all a strategy. Don't wait until the days are numbered to squeeze in as many memories with as many people as you can. We have the ability to do this each day, because our days have been taken from us just as fast as an email was sent.

While we were all sharing stories on the beach, this made me think: how do we do this? What do we do without each other for an unpromised amount of time? I thought of every distraction possible, but each option was shut down--because the world is shutting down around us.

1.) Need a hug from your mom? We can't promote the spread. 6 feet apart.

2.) Go on a bike ride with your childhood best friend? We're all imprisoned to our houses throughout this quarantine.

3.) Chat with your mom over dinner at your favorite restaurant? Restaurants are closed.

4.) Exercise? The gyms are closed.

5.) Religion? Churches are closed. Services are virtual.

6.) Retail therapy? All shops are online.

7.) Grab a drink? Bars are closed.

8.) Throw myself into school? Classes are online.

9.) When will we be back at school? To be determined.

10.) Well, what next?

COVID taught me much more than to wash my hands.

COVID has taught me:

1.) Hug the ones you love; you never know when an infectious disease will prevent you from all physical contact with even the ones who gave you life.

2.) Never wait until you may never see your friends again to tell them how much they mean to you and how much better you've become simply by knowing them. You can do this every day. Even on a Tuesday. Even before mid-March.

3.) Go out to eat, life's too short for microwave mac n cheese.

4.) Make time for yourself--working out sometimes doesn't work out.

5.) Worship your god from your personal shrine: you don't need to go anywhere to talk to Him.

6.) Window shopping is a privilege.

7.) Ask the bartender for a Moscow Mule instead of a Michelob when you can. Beer never sells out.

8.) Lectures are lessons, not burdens. Don't sigh when you have to go to class, get excited.

9.) Never count the days, make them count. You never truly know how many you have left. Be where your feet are -- never assume this life is going to last a long time; it's meant to be a good time.

10.) What's next? Chances are your plans won't go through. An email could change that in a second.

Yes, COVID-19 took away the entire last month (and maybe more) of my life's supposedly best years. Not just mine, but most college seniors across the nation. And this is only a handful of the population impacted from such a cruel, relentless thief. Yes, I feel selfish for being sad about not being able to go to my last formal, my last lecture, my last everything. I am selfish for being angry at this virus for possibly taking away my graduation I've worked towards throughout the past 4 years of my life. At 21 years old, my 18-year-old self would have never been able to predict this. Even myself 6 months ago could have never fathomed this. But, here we are.

This too shall pass.

We can choose to grasp onto this frustration, anger, and inconvenience. Granted, it's not a typical mid-March experience. This is something no one on Earth has claimed to experience before today.

Or, we can choose optimism. We are awakened; now will we go back to sleep? This is the world's wake-up call. When everything is taken from us, what is left? Schools are online, stores are closed, toilet paper is scant. All that's left is each other.

This makes me excited for normalcy. I am excited to sit down in a coffee shop again. I am ecstatic to walk into a grocery store overflowing with Charmin Ultra-Soft. I can't wait to hear a baby's cry echo in Church again. I'm anticipating the day I can hug my mom again. I can't wait to embrace life's most trivial moments.

I never would have thought of normalcy as a privilege--but, of course, it took every bit of normalcy being robbed from me to realize the true value of my everyday life being placed in the world around me. I am truly grateful for creation itself at this point; the ability to imagine how the next month of my life will be spent in growth, reading for fun, movie marathons, and maybe even some art. I am grateful for the world at its bare minimum without the frivolous luxuries we became too dangerously accustomed to. Maybe COVID is a way of telling us to slow down. Maybe it takes all of us being quarantine to become ourselves again.

So, don't get me wrong; COVID is horrendous. I offer my most sincere condolences for those physically affected and my utmost encouragement to those like me who have become emotionally affected. This virus has created a serious, dangerous crisis worldwide. It has made me angry, frustrated, and feeling hopeless. BUT it has taught me countless various lessons I vow to live by throughout the rest of my days, however many that may be.

Remember to embrace the most trivial moments--the normalcy.

Remember to stop wondering what's next and sit down for a good cup of coffee with a childhood friend.