I Swear You Will Be Fine

I’ve written about Anger and Envy being friends – about how I feel envious every time I see a couple on the street, clearly given more time together on Earth than we were. For a long while after you passed, envy was one of the more prominent feelings I possessed. Until it wasn’t.

Eventually, I realized there was nothing to be envious about. Sure, other couples were given more time than we were, and they will continue to have more time and opportunities to build the life we wanted. But family and friends have brought to light a perspective I hadn’t considered – maybe other couples have more time, but maybe the love they share isn’t as strong as ours. Maybe they aren’t as kind to each other as we are. Maybe they don’t laugh as much as we do. Sure, other couples have time… but if they didn’t, maybe they wouldn’t long for it the way we do. That’s how Envy slowly faded away. I found myself beginning to feel happy for others. I looked at couples and secretly wished that they would be given all the time they desire. I could see happy families and be genuinely happy for them – that they found their happiness and managed to keep it. Don’t get me wrong, I was still severely devastated that we weren’t allowed to keep ours, but I no longer resented others for holding onto theirs.

Then… I realized that Envy never really left, similar to Grief, she just changed her shape. Maybe a lot of emotions are shapeshifters. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I was hit with this realization – maybe it was when I caught myself enviously staring at an interracial couple slightly younger than us, maybe it was when I saw another couple laughing about something silly – but I found that I have so much to be envious of. I have now become envious of girls my age who don’t carry a heavy companion named Grief. I am envious of those who have lost you too, but don’t feel the loss as deeply as we do. Yes, they were sad. Yes, they still might be sad. But most people are able to go out, travel, laugh with their friends, share joy with their families without this constant heaviness. It doesn’t feel fair. Most people are able to go about their days. Most people don’t suffer impairments to their daily or socio-occupational functioning. Most people come by once in a while and say they miss you, but what about the rest of us? What about the rest of us who cry multiple times a day, who can’t casually go out, can’t take pictures, can’t celebrate occasions that deserve a celebration? What about us? I’m envious of those who can just be. I realized that for most people, what happened to you was a blip in their lives. But for us, our lives stopped when yours did. I am envious of all the people who cry only because they got into a fight with their boyfriend, not because their boyfriend is in Heaven. I am envious of people who miss their boyfriends and can text or call them and receive a reply. I have become so, so envious of people who aren’t grieving like we are. And I’m envious of those lucky enough to still be strangers with Grief. I know I can’t expect the world to stop spinning because ours did, but how can this be fair? Am I being naïve for thinking that everyone would always be as affected by your absence as I am?

Most of all, I am envious of me. I’m envious of myself a few months ago. The happy girl who fell asleep with you on the phone every night. Who rushed to get ready in the mornings because somehow you were always be faster, even though your routine was way busier than mine – going to the gym, walking the dogs, and eating breakfast before meeting me at my bus stop. I am envious of the girl who thought her greatest worry was if she was well prepared for an exam.

As strong as it is, Envy comes and goes. But no matter how powerful any emotion becomes, I am also grateful to be grieving. I try to remind myself that we grieve as deeply only because of how deeply we love you. We feel such sorrow in your absence because what we had with you was rare, something different, something more. When I grieve as strongly as I do, I’m saying to you “I love you so much I am willing to carry this pain in exchange for your happiness”.

You already know what I’m about to say: Can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha