I Swear You Will Be Fine

My eyes keep stinging because I cried so much yesterday. It feels like Josh is turning into a memory. Sometimes I question if he was ever really here, or if he actually is gone. Maybe if I called him on whatsapp, he would answer. Or more likely, message me that he’s hanging out with Sha and ask if it was anything urgent. Texting him would hurt the least – Josh never replied unless it was important.

Today is meant to be Mothers’ Day – one of the few occasions Josh would have replied to me. Our last conversations on whatsapp are largely about what to buy Mum for Christmas. I know Josh would have wanted me to still buy Mum and Ammamma presents but they didn’t want anything. And I really didn’t want to buy anything. I didn’t want to get them flowers, or a card, or anything. I don’t think Josh would be happy with me for hiding in England but being at home without him feels wrong.

Josh was very good at presents. He would do all the research into what was the best product to buy, and then find the cheapest price online. We weren’t particularly organised, but he would have paid attention to anything my mum had off-handedly commented about. I can’t get myself to buy them presents yet. Sometimes I can sign the cards Jess and Josh, but right now I can’t.

I dreamt a lot of Josh this week, but they weren’t good dreams. I was hoping by now I would have accepted that my brother isn’t here anymore, but I think I’m clinging on more to him now than I have before. I’m scared if I don’t, he’ll disappear. He’ll become ‘Oh, she used to have a brother. He passed away. He killed himself when he was 20.’ How do I explain to every person that you were so much more than how you died? You were smart and charming and polite. Above all, as my younger brother, you were irritating.

I spend a lot of time with my own thoughts nowadays as exams approach. That means a lot of time spent thinking about Josh. I don’t know if that’s why it feels like it’s getting harder. It doesn’t matter if my eyes are open or closed – I can always see him. The sadness is genuinely suffocating. It’s like trying to remember how to breathe, and forgetting several times a day. We’re all trying to grieve correctly. We read the books and go to the supports groups. But it’s not fixing it. I cry several times a day, and there have been major blips where I somehow did more than cry.

I’m worried Josh would be disappointed me in. Especially today. He would feel so bad about what he’s putting Mum and Ammamma through. He would have hugged Mum first thing in the morning, and given her a card and present from both of us. He would have dressed nicely, in a shirt that Ammamma would have bought for him, and hugged her as soon as he entered their house. He would have tried to go for lunch with our Mum and grandparents. It wouldn’t have been easy or necessarily possible for him, but he would have tried. This isn’t even something I think. It’s something I know, because I saw him do it year over year.

We all used to think it was a bit silly how overboard we went for birthdays and holidays, but now I’m glad we did. Because we all have handwritten cards from him. Loads of presents as well. It’s not the same, but it’s more than what a lot of people have. He still gave us twenty years of love and cards and presents. We’ll just recycle them for all our birthdays and holidays and Mothers’ Days left.