I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I’ve stolen your dogs. I know they were meant to be our dogs, but we can be honest. They have always been yours. I’m not sure how they survived being at home the night you passed. They must have known, because they didn’t follow Mum into your bedroom. But I’ve stolen them now.

I can’t sleep in the flat unless they’re next to me. I used to hate Cadbury’s need for contact, but now I pull him even clsoer. We had a bit of a routine – when I was ready to sleep, I’d hold the quilt up. He’d know that was his cue to go under. He quite likes sleeping on my hip. He used to sleep on my pillow, like he did with you. But I think he realised I was never going to be able to cuddle him the way you did. So he has settled for this.

I miss them so much. Sleeping is pretty impossible here without melatonin. Of course, the exam stress doesn’t help. But they comfort me so much. I had this thing around the 31st, where I was terrified something was going to happen to one of them. I remember putting my hand on Caddy late one night, just to make sure I could feel him breathing. I didn’t feel the need with Knight. He’s noisy enough that I always know when he’s close.

You must miss them so much. I hate thinking of you without them, but I can’t handle the thought of not having them anymore. They’re some of the closest things we have to you. I would have gladly smuggled them over in my suitcase. They accompany me the way they did you when you studied. I know my flatmate’s dog passed days after you, so I really hope you’re looking after Snowy.

We’re clinging to reminders of you. Sometimes you feel so far away. Once in a while, I tell myself you’re at home at your desk like you always are. You only feel far geographically. But it doesn’t work. I know it’s like this for everyone at home too. But especially Mum. She barely slept when you were physically here, because she was always listening to make sure you were ok. She doesn’t need to stay alert now, but her body won’t let her rest. I’m not sure she’ll be able to until we’re together again.

Miss you so much. I blame you if I don’t do well in these exams. It was nice seeing you in my dreams the night before the exams though. I didn’t appreciate the other present you sent as much. I thought it was the dogs at first, until I realised they were in another country. This ‘present’ ate my notes. I love thinking of you watching your 24-year-old sister calling our mother in the middle of the night because of a mouse. Really hoping you’ve taken care of it.

Love,

Acca