I Swear You Will Be Fine

A few weeks after you left for Heaven and I still couldn’t bring myself to reply to the texts my friends or acquaintances had sent, I told myself that it was okay not to respond yet even though it was out of character for me to ignore text messages. I thought, “in six months, I will be in a better headspace and will drop short notes of thanks to those who have reached out”. I thought that since it had only been a few weeks after you’d left, I could afford to be a little kinder and allow myself some time to process this loss before responding to everyone else. I thought that in six months, which seemed so far away then, I’d be able to meet up with my closest friends and maybe grab a short lunch, or even cry a little with those who have watched me grow up. I thought that in six months, I would be able to talk about you fondly, reminisce the good times we had, and boast about how great our love is. But oh, how wrong was I.

It’s almost seven months now, and almost nothing has changed. I have not responded to any of my friends. When people ask to meet up, I decline, “Sorry, but I’m not in a good headspace to be around people right now.” It’s close to seven months now, but I have not made much progress with grief. I am still unable to fully reminisce and talk about us or you fondly – I can and do speak about us with a smile on my face, but more often than not, I end up tearing up and having to look away or change the topic before I can’t hold back my tears anymore. Sometimes I wonder if people think I don’t want to talk about you, when in fact, you’re the only topic I want to talk about. It has been seven months, but every time I see the lecturer we are so fond of, I tell myself to keep it together, but I end up crying anyway. It has been seven months, but I still can’t do many of the things I thought I’d be able to do. Six months felt so far away then, but now it’s almost seven months, and almost nothing has changed.

It’s almost seven months now, and although I still text you multiple times a day, I know I’m not supposed to anticipate a text from you anymore. But a few days ago, after I sent you a text, I put my phone down and turned to walk away, but the phone vibrated. My mind instantly thought, “Oh, he has replied”, and turned back around to get my phone. Before I was able to stop, I started imagining your profile picture and messages popping up on my screen. After I picked up my phone and saw that it was merely a shopping notification, reality hit me and I could suddenly feel my entire demeanor and mood shift, realizing it couldn’t have been you. It’s close to seven months now, and I thought I got used to not receiving a response from you, but somehow my thoughts still unknowingly catch me off-guard.

It’s close to seven months now. Every night, I have started a new routine of blowing out the candle I light for you and saying, “Good night, see you in a jiffy”. Back then, we’d say “good night, see you tomorrow” over the phone and stay on call, oftentimes speaking to each other in a sleepy voice even after we had said our good nights. The other day, I blew out the candle and accidentally said, “good night, see you tomorrow” instead. I froze after, realizing what I had just said, and corrected myself. Slip-ups like that make me wonder how we even got here. Is this even real? My nights will now always end with “see you in a jiffy” or “see you tonight” in hopes that I’ll see you when I fall asleep. But I can’t even begin to describe how much I miss you and wish I could say “see you tomorrow” again.

You’d think that after nearly seven months, I would have gotten used to life like that. But sometimes I still wonder how this could have happened. I still wonder why I haven’t started to feel better. Like your sister said, it still feels so sad, but we are able to enjoy the “happy” moments a bit better. I am able to laugh with your family and friends more than I could have a few months ago, but it still feels as sad as it was – maybe even worse.

It’s been nearly seven months now, and I still imagine what it would be like to go to school and spend the day with you. I imagine what we would have been doing if you were here. We are in the midst of preparing some things for your birthday in ten days, and I wonder what you would have wanted if you were here. I think we are close; we’re mostly doing what we would have done with you – just with a lot more sadness, and a few extra steps, of course.

I comfort myself by thinking: seven months without you means we’re seven months closer to seeing you again. I guess it’s all about perspective.

Still wish with all my heart that you were here – life would be so, so much better. I can’t wait to see you in a jiffy. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha