I Swear You Will Be Fine

*Disclaimer: Some of what is written in this post may not resonate with you, and that is alright. What does not work for me might work for you, which is perfectly fine. Thank you for reading.

What happened has made me realize that no one understands death, not really anyway. People know that it is a sad thing, but they don’t really understand it. They understand that we will never see our loved one again in this life, but they don’t understand that we will never see our loved one again in this life. This is not a temporary sadness; this is something that is ongoing. This lives with us.

They hear “I lost my boyfriend” or “my boyfriend passed on”, and some of them say “I’m sorry for your loss”, but they don’t hear what it really means. They don’t hear “I go to school alone now”. They don’t hear “I sit in his empty room and imagine what it was like, what it could have been like”. They don’t hear “I write letters to him and place them in my bookshelf”. They especially don’t hear “my future was drastically altered because I decided to go on holiday with my family”.

Out of all the things I’ve heard people say to me after I lost Joshua, that one is probably the worst – the ones that don’t understand how my future was drastically changed (and I’ve heard a bunch of insensitive ones). A girl who was a friend of ours (keyword: was), instantly texted me “omg, how did he die?” after I told the group what had happened. I’ve heard a “maybe he had bad karma in his past life and had to use this life to get rid of it”. I’ve also heard things like “God has a plan” (If this works for you, sure. But it does not help for me) and “life will get better” (I’ve heard this multiple times in my life, and it evidently got worse. How does this statement help at all). Out of all these, the worst ones were: “You’re still young, you will find someone else”, “I hope you still get your happily ever after”, “It’s just a boyfriend, you can always find another”. I don’t swear a lot, but hearing these make me want to say a really bad word. I have so much to say to these people in response, but I try not to because I think there is little point, and I want to believe they don’t mean harm – they just lack some sense, and I guess we can’t expect everyone on Earth to have as much sense as we’d like and say everything we would like to hear. Sometimes, it is much better to hear nothing than something that does not help (I can hear some people go “how do I know what will help?” If you are unsure if what you’re about to say will help, don’t say it).

I had my whole future planned with Josh. We had children’s names picked out, future house/apartment designed in our heads, careers mapped out, and so many other things we wanted to do. Now, like those people I just described above, you might be thinking “She’s still young, she can find another boy”. Yes, there are many boys on Earth, but not this boy. Not this person, not this Joshua. There is no one else like him. No one else that will fit me perfectly like he does. Every normative life event one is supposed to have – getting married, buying a new house, having children – everything others can and will do are things I can never do. I can never share another meal, ride another rollercoaster, discuss finances and future plans with my partner ever again. I know, I am choosing to live the rest of my life alone, but was it really a choice? To those who are saying in their heads “you never know! You say this now, but what if you meet someone else?” I, as politely as I can, say to you: if I scored an A* on my exam, why would I even think of retaking it?

For those who would like to understand, this is what it is like to lose a loved one: It’s watching a trailer to a movie they wanted to watch, and crying because you know you either have to watch it without them, or never watch anything remotely close to it again. It’s walking into their empty room and seeing everything they loved plastered on the walls, and knowing that you will always be walking into an empty room. It’s going to the mall, coming across something they would love, buying it for them, and placing it on their table knowing they would never touch it in this lifetime. It’s getting through every single day with the constant reminder that life would be so much better with their presence, but knowing that you will never have that presence again. Losing someone is knowing that every single achievement and accomplishment amounts to nothing because you will never hear the person you want to make proudest say “I’m so proud of you”, even if you know they would have been. It’s a life of watching everyone else around you have everything you’ve ever wanted, and knowing you can never have that and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do you know what my first thought was when I heard the news that I had lost Joshua? I thought “I need to discuss this with Joshua.” – and that is what losing someone is like.

Nobody, and nothing, can ever replace the person we lost. It is a life of knowing that and having to live with it. It’s a life that will never be the same again. Every joyful celebration will be accompanied with “I wish they were here”, and every sad moment will be partnered with “I wish they were here”. Happiness will always be halved, and sadness will always be doubled.

This in no way encapsulates exactly what it is like losing someone, because it is definitely different for every person. Another girl who has lost her boyfriend might completely disagree with everything I’ve written. That is how grief is – it’s unique to each individual. The one common thing though, one thing we can find some solidarity in, is that grief doesn’t just go away no matter what type of loss it is – a loss is a loss.

My dearest Joshua: you are the love of my life, and the greatest loss of my life. I am so glad we have what we have, but there will always be a part of me that wishes we got to have more. I have never blamed you and I never will. This is just another speed bump we have to get over (“Speed bump” is in inside joke of ours. We used to call every little hiccup a “speed bump”). Can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha