Lockdown love letters

In honour of the weirdest V-day of our lives so far, the GG team are showing their love to whoever or whatever helped them get through this most turbulent of years.

To my friends and to Final Fantasy XIV: 

Though we knew each other undoubtedly so well before Covid ruined any semblance of the “normal” lives we were already hanging onto by a thread (I’m looking at you, nocturnal sleep schedule) it was post the pandemic panic that I really got close with you, and for that I’m forever grateful. A big part of that was playing Final Fantasy XIV with you, journeying across Eorzea and saving the world together as Warriors of Light. All of those joyous moments finally beating difficult endgame content together, watching story-arcs complete with ridiculous plot twists, and even just the moments where we ran around taking pictures of each other’s characters – it was a comforting recreation of that real world socialising that I missed so much.

It’s not just in-game, either – I’ve shared so many special times with you guys outside Final Fantasy XIV that I’m almost thankful Covid existed, if only to bring us closer together. I truly do consider you my platonic soulmates, as cheesy as it is, and I can’t wait to experience many more years of friendship with you.

Katrina Williams, Deputy Culture Editor

While sports unpredictable nature often makes it the draw for many fans, the somewhat normalcy of watching a game on my couch cannot be overstated. We’ve all had days in lockdown where everything seems pointless: nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to look forward to. But knowing that my Columbus Blue Jackets were playing that night gave me something to look forward to and helped break up the monotony of life, which had become arbitrary in lockdown. Watching Scotland qualify for the Euros gave everyone a sense of closeness as that last penalty came and shouts echoed throughout the West End and all over Scotland. Watching sports reminded us of community, be it seeing a Glasgow team that played just miles away from your flat, or a team thousands of miles away representing your hometown, we were all reminded of just where we live and where we call home. 

Jordan Hunter, Editor-in-Chief

The thought of pushing you up against the wall was enough to spur me into action. We didn’t flirt with pleasantries or inconsequential chit-chat: I was straight down on my knees for you, ripping off your encasement with unanticipated excitement. Before long, I was screwing with a gentle ease reserved for the most delicate of things, gripping on to those sturdy legs as we reached completion.

Months have passed since that first encounter, and I’m yet to get bored in your company. Just when I think we’ve exhausted every possible activity, another comes along and pushes me back into your embrace. I will never tire of mornings spent watching passers-by from our basement window, or the countless coffees shared as we pour over books together.

Habitat Copenhagen Two Drawer Desk: I’ll love you until your legs give out.

Hailie Pentleton, Views Editor

During 2020’s first lockdown, one of the only aspects of life which helped me keep my head above water was spring’s heavenly weather. Being lucky enough to have a south-facing garden at home, I spent March through July laying on the perennially golden grass, flicking through books I’d never had a chance to pick up in a normal-paced life, and braiding friendship bracelets to send off to far-away pals in the post. There was something about a simple existence I didn’t mind too terribly.  

However, once I moved into my Glasgow flat in the summer (my first ever time living with friends, might I add), lonely afternoons once spent engrossed in hardbacks and bracelet string were swapped out for laughter on Kelvingrove’s big hill and The Walking Dead marathons with my flatmates. Not being able to spend time with people I love, I soon realised, was what had been so hard about the first period of lockdown. Surrounding myself with three of the most wonderful flatmates has genuinely gotten me through fourth year of university, and I don’t think I could have faced these nights alone. It’s hard not to feel sentimental during such a tumultuous time, so I’m embracing the sappiness and love I have for the people with whom I share these four tenement walls.  

Rebecca Scott, Deputy Editor-in-Chief

Many-a plan has fallen through, this most-accursed year. Starting a Medium, learning an instrument, overcoming my social issues, hopes all dashed long ago. And yet, in my darkest hours, you were there. Familiar eyes to gaze into, a familiar embrace to fall into when times of woe arose. You sat there, regal, elegant, a monument amongst the depression mess. Your towering, curvaceous silhouette has haunted me for many anxiety-ridden nights, and long did I feel the urge to thumb your delicate, ivory pages once more. And oh, my sweet, am I ever glad that I did.

I’ll never forget that summer we shared, while the evening sun illuminated the horizons of the council estate, you lay at my side, sharing familiar quips and stories I’ve heard all of five times before. As I lay exhausted, your siren’s song called to me, I could not help but pick you up once more, holding you close until dawn broke. When it came to an end, I wept. The distraction your familiarity provided aided me through a wretched year. A Song of Ice and Fire, I hope one day, you will return to my weepy reader’s eyes for a sixth glorious time.

Sophie Kernachan, Culture Columnist

We laughed. We cried. We zoomed and mourned the physical space between us, but it never broke us. You built me up when I was down. You stood by me when I   revealed my deepest and darkest secrets, fears and desires, and told me yours in turn. You didn’t try to make me whole, but you let me know that you loved those broken bits all the more for it. And that was when I knew, you were the one. You’d be mine and I’d be yours, til death do us part.

Nothing lasts forever, time is a fickle mistress, and we knew things wouldn’t stay the same indefinitely. Yet, they say a rose by any other name smells just as sweet, and it is true that through your many incarnations you’ve only moved closer to my heart. Nicknames, photos and jokes have been and gone, but the feelings stay with me, always. At times you’re hard to keep up with, but it only keeps me loving you more and more with each passing word.

 In the absence of club bathrooms, we still have the gals group chat. We may be separated by more than toilet stalls, but the jokes, the breakdowns and the feelings of encouragement transcend it all. Pumpents, unite.

Emily Hay, Views Editor

I’ve been a bit of a whore all these years, but I know you’re the one I want now. During Zoom calls, the munro we climbed together, in the library – you were there for me like no other.

Yes, alright – there’s been others. There have always been others. I can see why it would hurt, constantly picking others before you, leaving you out on the shelf like that. I haven’t been hopelessly devoted to you but I just needed some time to see what I’ve been blind to.

Our relationship hasn’t been easy like a Sunday morning. My parents disapproved, my dad even called me disgusting for letting you come inside me. Friends have judged me, telling me I could do much better, that I’ve got no taste – but it’s you I want. 

I had you everywhere, at our worst, four or five times a day. It didn’t matter what time it was, I couldn’t resist you. It was a quick high, I know, and sometimes I used you although I didn’t want you, just for a distraction. 

But now I know, Walkers Prawn Cocktail, it’s you, it’s always been you. You’re my favourite crisp – even if you are only one degree away from Wayne Lineker.

Holly Jennings, Editor-in-Chief