I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

There’s a very popular poem going around about how grief is like glitter – it is messy, clings onto everything, and just when you think you’ve gotten rid of it, you find an unexpected sparkle years later. A friend of mine sent me a rendition of this poem that I thought was really nice.

Before I share the poem my friend sent, I want to share with you a little more about my messy thoughts that have been bothering me. I’ve always been completely honest on this blog and I don’t intend to sugarcoat my thoughts because I’m sure I’m not the only grieving individual who has them. If my honesty is upsetting for some, I will deal with that when the obstacle arrives. I’ve been feeling a lot of guilt lately over these thoughts that surround myself. I’ve been worried that I will lose myself and only be known as your girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad place to be. I still introduce myself as your girlfriend and you as my boyfriend. But lately I’ve been worried about the trajectory of my life. Yes, I am your girlfriend. Yes, I’m part of the foundation we have set up for you. Yes, the pawdcast we do surrounds grief and you. Yes, a lot of my life plans have you all over them. In a lot of these life plans, I am your girlfriend. All of which I am alright with. I would be content if I could help at least one other person with grief, with mental health struggles, with life. I would be really content with that.

But there’s also a part of me that’s scared. I am more than your girlfriend. I am my own person. What if all I’m known for is this? What if all I am is a grieving girlfriend? Is that all I can be for the rest of my life? Is that all I’m meant to be? In Wuthering Heights – the movie – there is this girl (I can’t even recall her name) who is like a side character. She’s always in the frame, watching Catherine and always by Catherine’s side, but never leading her own life. She basically doesn’t have her own life. She’s just a side character, right? What if that is who I end up becoming, or who I have become?

I panicked a few nights ago because I don’t want to be a side character with no story. I don’t want to be forgettable and “just the grieving girlfriend”. Catherine’s girl, the side character (I still don’t recall her name, which really proves my point), ends up with a lot of resentment. I don’t want to be like that. All these thoughts led to a lot of guilt.

How could I think like that, about having a life more than grief and you? How could I hope to be more when you weren’t given the chance to be more? I was bouncing between these two groups of thoughts – to have a life or to just be a griever. Like I said a letter ago, I spoke to a friend who shared some mature insight. My takeaway from our conversation was: I can have a life. I can have a life and still carry grief with me. I don’t think I will ever stop feeling grief. I don’t think I will ever not miss you and wonder how our life could have been. I don’t think I will ever stop loving you (and I don’t want to stop), but I don’t have to make “grieving girlfriend” my entire identity in order to honor you. I don’t have to chide myself for having hope. I don’t want to be a bitter, lonely, lady with weird quirks and live all alone.

With that said, I might still end up living alone. I might still end up being a “grieving girlfriend” all my life and make that my whole personality. And if that’s what I’m meant to be, it’s alright. I will be content with that. But it is not fair for me to close myself off to other parts of the world out of grief and guilt – especially when it’s guilt that I’ve imposed on myself. Anyway, wherever I go, you will be with me, stuck onto me like glitter that I don’t have any plans on removing.

I think this letter has become too long. I guess you will have to wait for the next one to read the poem. It’s too long and too good to not be the center of a post.

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

Love always,
Sha