I remember watching Christina Grimmie's YouTube videos in 2009. My friends and I couldn't get enough of her.

When I first discovered Christina, I had just finished middle school and was about to enter high school. I was beginning to take my own singing and songwriting more seriously, and I was teaching myself to play the ukulele. I felt like the two of us were growing up together, chasing after the same dream.

I was keeping tabs on plenty of YouTube personalites at the time, but there was something different about Christina Grimmie. She posted covers of popular songs, but she sang them as if they were her own, as if she wrote them. And damn, was she good. Even better, she was incredibly sincere. She was highly involved with her fanbase on a level than many public figures do not bother to reach. Years later, as she became increasingly successful, her kindness and humility remained intact.

That's why I was so happy to watch her on The Voice when the time came. That's why I was so hurt when I heard the news of her passing.

Below is a modified list of the five stages of grief that walk through my experiences over the past few days. Writing this list helped me feel a little better, and I hope it does the same for you.

1. Denial

On Saturday morning, a Facebook friend shared a link: "The Voice's Christina Grimmie Dead at 22."

I was thinking, What do you mean? (Plays at 51 seconds.)

I thought it was a prank, one of those links you click, and then you're taken to a page where the trick is revealed. Ha! You fell for it, loser! A sigh of relief would ensue, I'd have a laugh, and I could return to my daily routine.

1.5. Denial, Part 2

And then I read those lines: "'It is with a heavy heart that we can confirm that Christina has passed and went home to be with the Lord... She was shot at her show in Orlando and, unfortunately, didn't survive the gun shot wounds."

I still couldn't believe it. I felt like it had to be a dream. Just a dream.

"If you've ever loved somebody, put your hands up."

2. Anger

How ill or evil would someone have to be to rob her of her life? Her career was only beginning, and few people were as deserving of her success as she was.

There's no answer, or at least, not right now, but I can't get past it. I'm so unbelievably angry. I can't let it go.

"I want you to stay."

2.5. More Denial

Okay, I really can't wrap my head around this. I know there's no making sense of it, but I keep trying anyway. It's like a game of hide and seek that I just can't win.

"What the hell is going on?"

3. Bargaining. And more denial and anger.

"What I would do to be loved by you."

Even though I know it can't happen, I wish there was something I could offer up or exchange to bring her back. Whoever this man was, and whether or not he had a motive, he didn't ever care for Christina, her loved ones, or anyone at the venue, and now we're sitting here, wondering why this even had to happen.

"You didn't ever care for me, so now I'm sitting here wondering why."

4. Depression

There comes a time when you're too tired to be angry anymore. Now, I'm just hurt.

"What hurts the most is... never knowing what could've been."

4.5. Hope

In spite of all odds, I still hope.

I know what's happened can't change, but I hope that something good can come of it somehow. I'm still hurting, but I'm optimistic. I can see the stars from here.

Christina's crossed over to the other side, but now, as I sit here and write, and I listen to her sing and watch her videos, I've never felt her presence so strongly. There's something moving and lasting about the way she carries herself. I feel a sense of peace. Her death was not in vain, and she will not soon be forgotten.

"I know these scars will bleed, but both of our hearts believe all of these stars will guide us home."

5. Acceptance

While I think it's possible to come to terms with this in time, I don't think I'll ever be able to "accept" the way Christina was taken from this world. I can forgive this man - in time - but I certainly can't forget what he's done. I worry that I'll always have a trace of bitterness in my heart over this. It was too soon. It was too senseless.

Still, Christina Grimmie wouldn't want us to mourn her for too long. I'm confident that there's nothing she'd want more than for us to carry on her legacy in the best way possible: by living and acting with her humility, her sincerity, her energy, her empathy. To really connect with the people around us, to take the time to know and understand them, and above all else, to love them.

She's safe now. It's time we make our world a safer place, too.

"Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone."

In time, let's let it go. Let's let it be. Christina's been Christina. It's time for us to finally be "we."

The truth is, not one of us was ever promised a long, happy, or healthy life. Christina's done tremendous work during her short time on Earth, and she's changed the lives of many for the better. It's time for us to take responsibility for ourselves and each other by doing the same. Our hearts will go on, and that's how she wants it to be.

However you choose to express your grief, don't allow yourself to be fooled into believing that the world is a horrible, hateful place. It's not. That only happens if you allow it to become that way.

Please, don't post an angry Facebook status. Express your grief. Express your condolences to friends and family members. Bitterness is an epidemic, so do not spread the disease.

Instead, do something wonderful for a neighbor, a coworker, or a friend. Keep doing that, and never stop.