I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

Multiple things have pissed me off. I think I’m going through a phase or something. At least, I hope it’s a phase. I wrote this letter a few days ago but today, right as I was about to post it, it disappeared from the document. I think there was an issue with the syncing from one device to another, and there was nothing I could do about losing the writing except to rewrite it. That upsets me a little more than it should because I was quite pleased with what I first wrote. I don’t think I can replicate it, sadly. I’ll just try again, though my emotions are slightly different today.

I figured out another reason why I might be feeling so down – other than the obvious, and the reason I talked about in the previous letter. I think it’s because I somehow associated the end of the year with the end of this pain. No one made me think that way, and I had no reason to think that. Logically, I know that this pain is forever. Grief doesn’t just go away because the year is over – that makes zero sense. And I know this! The whole of last year I knew that this is a never-ending pain! I even wrote about this multiple times and genuinely believed that I was getting used to the idea of this constant pain, but I guess I was wrong. Even though I knew that you weren’t coming back, that I’ll miss you forever, I still had the subconscious notion that this pain would end. I’m starting to think that’s one of the reasons why I survived last year – because I thought there’d be an end. The realization that there isn’t an end is also quite depressing.

Anyway, that preconception – one that I did not know I had – resulted in a huge crash at the start of the year. The year begun and I realized that I was feeling worse, not better like I thought I would be. It was like grief served with a side of surprise. I really can’t tell you how I thought the beginning of the week would go, but I was definitely surprised by the whirlpool of emotions I was feeling. It was like I befriended grief all over again, which I thought was concerning because… shouldn’t I be best friends with grief at this point? How am I still learning about grief when we’ve known each other for over a year?

The other realization I had was that this is a renewed cycle. Grief is a renewed cycle. The early days of 2026 has been filled with rumination over how I spent the early days of 2025. I’m hit with the same regret – that I wasn’t able to save you, that I wasn’t allowed to come back to say goodbye – the same regret and resentment I will have for the rest of my life. I’m feeling similar emotions as last year, only they are heightened this year for many reasons I can’t explain.

Over the course of the week, I’ve reflected a lot more on my emotions and the person that I am. Grief is probably making it worse, but I’ve just been feeling so low about every aspect of myself. I keep wondering how I can be a better person, how I can handle grief better, how I can perform better at school, etc. The thoughts just never end. And there are no triggers or solutions (kind of). I’ve hit the point of my reflection where I’m asking you for help. Just give me the answer, a hint, or some form of help please. Maybe I need to be more intellectually stimulated than I am right now. School has not begun yet, so I’m doing very little with the time I have and it’s not distracting me as much as I would like.

Grief being a renewed cycle means that I will begin to feel a more concentrated or diluted version of what I felt last year. I can’t tell if either option is good, but I have to get used to it. The amount of time I’m taking to get used to grief is upsetting me too. Is it supposed to take this long? Then again, like your Uncle H said, a year is still a short time. Looking at the road ahead, a year is nothing.

I desperately want to talk to you. To rant about everything and everyone with you. I desperately, desperately, need you as a partner and best friend. I think you’re the only person in the world I can be my complete self with and tell my every thought to without fearing judgement. I miss you so much.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever. I hope you’re not sick of this ending phrase yet. It has been a year, but I’m not sure I intend to change it.

Love always,
Sha