Dear Jhi,
Grief is a strange thing.
It doesn’t come with instructions. It doesn’t tell you how long it will stay or how heavy it will feel. Some days it lets you breathe. Other days it takes everything you have just to get through the day.
I don’t know exactly what you’re carrying right now.
I don’t know what your days have been like or how quiet your nights have become. I don’t know if you’ve been crying, trying to stay strong for everyone else, or pretending you’re okay when you’re really not.
But I want you to know that I’ve been trying to understand.
I’ve never been angry at you for hurting. I’ve only been hurt by not knowing where I stand.
I keep reminding myself that maybe you’re going through something bigger than I can see. Maybe that’s why you’ve become so quiet. Maybe you’re trying to survive one day at a time.
If that’s true, I hope you don’t carry it all by yourself.
You don’t have to be strong every single day. You don’t have to keep everything inside.
If you ever need someone to listen without judging, someone who doesn’t expect you to have all the right words, I’ll be here.
Not because I have all the answers. But because I care about you. More than you probably realize.
I wish I could take away even a little bit of the weight you’re carrying. I wish I could remind you that it’s okay to grieve, it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to admit that life feels unfair sometimes.
I don’t expect you to be okay overnight. I just hope you’re allowing yourself to feel everything instead of carrying it alone.
At the same time, I hope you’ll understand something too. Your silence has been difficult for me.
Not because I expect constant conversations or endless attention, but because I don’t know where I belong in your life anymore.
I don’t know if you need space. I don’t know if you’re waiting for the right time. I don’t know if you’re slowly letting me go. And not knowing has been one of the hardest parts.
Still… I’ve chosen to believe that the person I came to know is still there somewhere beneath all the pain.
That’s why I haven’t stopped hoping that one day, when your heart feels a little lighter, you’ll find your way back—not because you owe me an explanation, but because I’d like to know how you’ve been.
No matter what happens, I hope you remember this:
You never had to pretend to be okay with me. You never had to carry your grief alone. And if there ever comes a day when you feel ready to talk, whether it’s about your pain, your fears, or simply how your day went, I’ll listen.
Until then, I’ll keep praying that healing finds you, little by little.
Take care, Jhi.
Someone out here is quietly hoping that yours becomes lighter.
Always, Nikka