The Thing With Feathers
“Hope is the thing with feathers”- Emily Dickenson
Sitting in the car, I watched the trees passing by my window. There were forty minutes left in the drive and with each passing minute, I grew more excited. We passed the Psychic shop that had been opened the year I was born, with its decrepit white sign and ornamental red writing. Thirty-five minutes to go. With each twitch of my phone, I looked down in anticipation. An old radio show droned over the radio but I couldn’t focus on any of the words. Thirty minutes. I was on my way to meet my crush, for the first time in person.
The thought of downloading Bumble had passed through my mind a few times before I actually committed to the idea. I had tried Her once before but my friend swore by Bumble back in December. Hesitant to try anything with a study abroad coming up in the summer, I pushed the idea out of my mind.
Then the pandemic struck. I took a leap of faith.
With all of the class I took in college, why wasn’t there one that taught me how to make the perfect profile? Even though I had set up a Her profile, that had felt low stakes, with its sparse profiles and the occasional fact account. This app was clean-cut, so I had to come up with a snazzy bio. When I came across the “what are you looking for?” question, I decided it was time to go all in and give it a shot. Worst case scenario I swiped and came away with nothing. I put “looking for a relationship.”
They were one of the first profiles I came across. A cute smile, killer style, and a sweet bio. Tentatively I swiped, my fingers crossed. It was a match. My fingers hovering over my keypad I contemplated my next move. I was never one to initiate, but something felt different about this person. I typed out an ice breaker then deleted it, typed out another one, and deleted that as well. I had to come up with something witty but cute, entertaining but sweet. It took three more attempts before I settled on something suitable. I asked them about a picture they had on their profile with Dodie. That was the best I could come up with. They had twenty-four hours to respond but most people never responded on apps like these.
I was packing to move out of my dorm when they responded. I almost missed their response, almost deleted the notification. But when I realized it was their name on my screen I stopped and smiled.
We started out with the normal small talk (or as normal as it could be considering the world was falling apart around us). We talked about music and Disney and our shared love of Harry Potter. We lamented over our changing lives as the virus tore through the city. Before we signed off for the night they told me about an Emily Dickenson poem they were analyzing for class.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.”
Emily Dickenson
I had read some Dickenson in high school but wasn’t familiar with this poem. I thought it was beautiful. Reading over it a few times, I shut my phone and fell asleep.
Over the next few days, more people matched with me but I kept coming back to them. We connected right off the bat, offering each other support as we adjusted to our new normal. I had to move back home. They had to quarantine in their house. We were there for each other, as much as we could be living 45 minutes away from each other. It was nice to connect with someone, to confide in someone. As the days went on I began feeling attached. Looking forward to our morning texts and our evening goodnights. The more we talked, the more attached I became (I’m a Uhaul lesbian through and through). When Harry Potter was on SYFY at night my thoughts drifted back to them.
Our first Zoom date we were supposed to watch an episode of Gilmore Girls. As I sat in front of my computer screen my stomach dropped when the grey loading sign popped up. I had gone on first dates before but somehow, this online date felt different. I wasn’t feeling butterflies in my stomach or any of the cliche things I’ve heard a million times that I should be feeling. When their bright eyes and smiling face filled up on my screen I felt something in my chest. We talked for three hours that first Zoom, never once mentioning the show we had planned to watch.
The moment I knew Sophie was someone special was before our second Zoom date. I had jokingly suggested a Halloween themed date when the topic of our favorite holidays came up. I never expected them to say yes or to give the suggestion a second thought. But the more we discussed it the more we loved the idea. The following week I waited patiently for our zoom to start, in my homemade costume. Once again, their adorable face popped up, this time in full costume with small decorations around their room. Another three hours flew by and we planned for our next date.
So it went on for weeks, zooming, and texting whenever we could. The pandemic raged in the world outside but I felt untroubled speaking to Sophie. We got to know each other more and I grew attached, all the while the feeling in my chest growing stronger each day. For the first time since the pandemic started, I was smiling again, looking forward to each new day. When we finally felt safe to meet I felt like my chest would burst with the feeling.
Forty-five minutes and a radio show later, we stood facing each other. Even with our masks on theirs, of course, Disney-themed, I could tell our smiles were matching. Finally, we could bridge the gap that had separated us for more than three months. As we climbed into their car to go on our socially-distancing date, I thought back to our first conversation. As we embarked on our journey I felt light as a feather and was awash in what had begun to grow in my soul the day we started talking, something I had worried I’d never feel again when the pandemic took over: I felt hope.