I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I was reading my recent posts and whilst I am alright with my new ending line, I miss the old one. Too sentimental about silly things. I’ve settled on either alternating them or using whichever I please. I can see you laughing and telling me to do whatever I want because you don’t mind either. You’re a sentimental person, but not for silly things like I am. Like, I’d cut off wrappers of bottles and bits of wrapping paper for my scrapbook.

I remember telling you this over a video call one day and you affectionately laughed at me for being soft. I then told you I’d start a whole new scrapbook just for us, which I still have and add to whenever your family gives me gifts. I started a new book for us because I didn’t want our memories getting lost in the ones I had with others. I thought of ours’ as special – it is – and I’m glad I did that. It’s nice to look at those things from time to time.

You’re surprisingly sentimental though. The first time I thought this about you was on your birthday in 2024. I gave you a handmade card. Really, it was hideous. We were just friends and I wanted to write you a card but didn’t want it to be too fancy or nice-looking because I was worried it might be “too much” for friends. I put in a decent amount of effort into making it, but made it look like I didn’t really. I didn’t even properly give it to you! I slid it across the table and told you to read it at home. You gasped and tried to thank me but I shrugged it off. How silly of me.

You texted me after you got home and read the card and said you’d keep it in your sentimental shelf along with all the other things that mean a lot to you. That made me feel honored. After we started dating, you showed me that shelf. I found it endearing. In it, you had a picture of you and your friends – the last picture you took with J before he passed. As our relationship went on, you added more things to that shelf – movie tickets, small notes I wrote you, little pieces of adventures we went on. The handwritten letters I gave you before I left for Japan are in a separate drawer. You said the shelf was getting too full so you had to have a sentimental drawer too. I wish we had more time to fill many more drawers and shelves.

Actually, I could have guessed that you were sentimental. You asked all of your friends to write their names on the wall right in front of your bed. You passed it off as something spontaneous. I think you once said it’s so your sister can’t take the room back (how brotherly of you). But after you passed I wondered if that was what you wanted to see every morning when you woke up – a reminder of the people you love, and who love you, and of the good things in life.

I guess you still get to see all of us from where you are. Well, we can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha