I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I was uploading the ninth episode of our pawdcast and decided to listen to some of the voice notes you’ve sent me. I love that we have so many of these so that I can never forget the sound of your voice. Whenever I listen to them, I imagine you in your room, recording them for me, continuing a conversation we had. There are some voice notes where you’re focused and take on a more serious tone, and I can imagine your face full of thought. And then there are some where you’re speaking in high voices and making fun of something I said or did, or teasing an inside joke. In those silly ones, I think about the faces you pull when you’re making those voices. I’m thankful these memories are still clearly in my mind.

I’ve also been listening more to the songs you’ve put in that playlist for me. When I left for Japan, I told you that I’d listen to that playlist whenever I missed you and you said, “Oh I better get it sorted then, because you’ll be listening to it a lot.” That sentence makes me giggle because when you said this, I wanted to tease, “So you think I’ll miss you that much!” I think I did say that and added, “Well, I will, so get the playlist ready.” Your response was a snort and something funny. I think you told your family that I looked sadder than you did when we last saw each other on 17^th December. My flight was in a few hours.

I’ve learned a lot about grief in the past almost two years. And in the middle of all that grief, I also learned a lot about love. I think grief and love coexist. There can’t be one without the other. Some people think there can be love without grief, but to love is to eventually grieve – people pass on, move away, or unexpected things happen. Grief, as we’ve talked about, occurs with or without death. That’s why I think grief and love coexist.

In these past almost two years, I’ve learned more about myself than expected. I’ve had to sit with myself in times I didn’t want to. I spent more time with myself than I ever imagined I would at 24-almost-25. I talked to myself a lot more than I would have deemed healthy.

The most important thing that I have learned is that love exists in many forms. There’s the love we share – that’s infinite; a type of love I hope everyone can experience, though I hear it rarely occurs. I’ve seen love in almost everyone I’ve met – which the cynic in me didn’t think was possible before I was acquainted with grief. It feels like I’ve met my family and friends for the first time.

I’ve seen love in those making food I like, always ensuring there’s something I like to eat at every table. Oh! I’ve also seen love in those remembering my allergy to nuts! This is one I don’t frequently talk about but appreciate very much – when people remember that I have an allergy without my reminder. You were always very good at that.

I’ve seen love in those who call me on the phone for hours – sometimes I cry, sometimes I talk about things that make little sense, sometimes the calls happen on the go. I always appreciate being remembered and when people take time out of their busy day to talk to me.

I see love in those who no longer interrupt me. This is a funny one because I usually allow people to interrupt me (my bad) but try not to interrupt others. In a recent outing with my friends, everyone listened attentively every time I spoke and didn’t interrupt. I’m not sure if it’s because I seemed fragile (nothing wrong with being fragile, but I hope I didn’t seem like that), or because this was their new way of showing love, but I appreciate it.

I see another form of love in those who give me space, who tell me to reach out when I’m ready, who don’t take it personally that I haven’t met up with them. I see a lot of love in those who actively ask me out despite not getting steady responses, those who are patient and kind, who temporarily drop their struggles to ask me if I’m alright. I see so much love in those trying to help others in the midst of their own battles.

I see love in those letting me honor you – allowing the walls of my room to be decorated with your pictures, in allowing me to hang keychains of our pictures on my bags, in allowing me to do most things I want to do because they’re unsure of how to make me feel better. They may not always have the right words or actions (who does?) but there’s an effort made.

There’s so much to write about and so much love that keeps going around. I hope I’m able to express my love for these people too. It’s a different love than the one we share, but different isn’t bad.

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

Love always,
Sha