How depressingly ironic that my last post before this one was about making 2019 my year. Only three months has passed and 2019 already feels like a bitch. The only reassuring thing is that it surely cannot get any worse than this. It’s been almost two months since Guy has passed away and even though I am back at work and have laughed plenty of times since, I still don’t feel completely whole. I can’t count the number of times I’ve hid in the office pantry teary-eyed waiting for the sadness to slowly pass.
I always took having a sibling for granted. Now that Guy isn’t here, I’m starting to realize how much being an older sister meant to me and my identity – even subconsciously. For one, I had no idea how comforting it was for me to know that there would always be someone in my corner. It made me feel less alone even without me realizing it. See, I have a tendency to stress myself out by thinking about the future and worrying about things I can’t control. When my grandpa passed away from old age, it terrified me that one day, my parents would also leave. I sought solace in the fact that at least I wouldn’t have to experience it alone. Guy would be there with me.
Guy was, and still is, who I strive to be. He never spoke a bad word about anyone (I don’t know how!), and would look at me confused whenever I complained about anything. He always told me to relax (never worked) and tried to remind me of how trivial my problems were in the grand scheme of things. I used to tell my mom that I wish she gave me an older brother as well, someone who would take care of me and give me advice. Now in hindsight, Guy was pretty much always the older sibling. He wasn’t perfect, don’t get me wrong. But he was kind and generous. He was patient and loyal. He had the biggest heart. And he always took care of me.
On days when I feel fine, I look through his photos, sometimes intentionally to make myself sad. It just feels wrong to not be mourning or thinking about Guy. But I know Guy would have wanted me, my family and his friends to continue on with our lives. He was selfless like that. I like to believe that he is in a better place now. I had a dream the first night I moved into my condo that we were hanging out with our friends, laughing and having fun. I then walked up next to Guy and said to everyone else in the room, “Isn’t it funny?! Even though Guy isn’t here anymore, it feels like he’s with us all the time.” At that moment in my dream, I wasn’t sad or scared. Even though it was only a dream, I’d like to believe that was Guy telling me that he’ll always be with me.
This post will probably not make a lot of sense. I just wanted to write my feelings to help ease some of the anxiety I’ve been experiencing from bottling up my emotions in an attempt to keep my shit together. I’ve actually thought about penning down my thoughts for a while now but was scared that my words wouldn’t do it justice. It still doesn’t. But it’s a first step.
Anyway, promise no more sad posts after this – Guy wouldn’t like it.