I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I’m sad for many reasons. They might sound like the tiniest reasons compared to why I’m actually sad – because you’re not physically here. Yesterday I submitted my last assignment for this semester, which is my last semester in the degree program. And next week will be my last exam in the degree program. Not last assignment or exam ever, because I’ll be doing my Honours next year. But it’s still something I guess, since there’ll be a graduation. Speaking of graduations, there will be another one after Honours. And after Master’s. And after anything else I can achieve after that. There will be more than one graduation without you, which is an awful thought because even though I didn’t start getting my degree with you, I thought I’d be getting it with you. But that’s a sadness from the future, and I’ve got enough sadness with me in the present to be borrowing more from the future. So let’s not think about graduations yet.

I shall stick to the sadness I have in me now. For now, our last assignment is done and our last exam is also going to be done. I should be happy about this. I should be happy that we’ll be graduating soon, moving on to the next phase of our lives. I would be happy if you were here. Never thought that I’d not want an exam to be over. I thought we’d be calling each other to study together and feeling stressed together. Or rather, we’d take turns to feel stressed. For some magical reason, whenever one of us would feel stressed, the other would hold it together to offer comfort and support (it’s the equity theory again!).

I thought we’d be accomplishing all these little milestones together. I thought we’d be hunched over our laptops, excited to see if we both got the early conditional offer for the Honours program. I thought we’d be asking each other if we both got offers to skip Honours and go for our Master’s, but reject it together because clinical psychology was not part of the offers. I thought we’d be planning to get our graduation photos together – I would have suggested we take couple photos in some mini studio (oh sorry, borrowing sadness from the future again). We would have celebrated the end of our last assignment and exam. Maybe we’d break our no-drinking pact (since we’d do it together) and have a drink after our exam. We’d likely regret it, and make another pact to never break the first one again.

A lot of the times I think I still live in denial. I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say this, because I think I’m sick of writing it over and over again. Denial, denial, denial. How long will I stay in this phase? I mean, some days I get “depression” and “anger” (at the world). And I guess I also get “bargaining” sometimes, though quite rarely. I don’t believe the universe cares about my bargains (clearly doesn’t). But “denial” is the phase I live in. It’s my default. It also doesn’t help that I pretend you’re alive. I think the “lies” I’ve been telling my coworkers are backfiring. I actually feel sad that I have to pretend you’re alive.

How long do you think I can pretend you’re alive before it gets too much? Do you think I can keep doing it to cashiers, nail ladies, coworkers? Does it sound crazy from another point of view? “That girl’s boyfriend passed a year ago but she still pretends he’s alive!” It does sound a little cuckoo, doesn’t it. Grief is seriously everchanging. A few months ago I thought that it’ll still alright to do that, and now I’m thinking it’s not. Someone needs to write a grief manual. Maybe I’ll do it when I’ve figured this out. Or maybe, I can hear you say this now, I should try therapy. I can actually hear you say this because I think you’ve said this before, “Sha, stop trying to figure everything out on your own.” I know, I know. But sometimes I can figure it out, you know? Maybe I should just read our notes and give myself some of my therapy!

The end of the year is approaching. Sorry for the messy writing, by the way. My thoughts have been all over lately. I just can’t believe that the end of the year is approaching. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with that. It feels scary and unreal. I’m going to pause here and remind myself not to borrow sadness from the future again. I think I have been doing that a lot. I just need to remind myself that you’re alright, and you’re still here. You never left.

I have to keep that in mind – not to borrow sadness from the future. The sadness I have with me now is already too much for me to hold.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha