Sometimes it all just seems like blurry memories...

Dear Emilee,

I am going to try to write to you like you're actually here. Like you're sitting across from me, not like I'm just writing to myself, getting silence in return. Like I'm not actually here sitting at a table alone coffee in hand and an empty seat across from me.

I don't know where to start. Do you know what's happening in my life now? Are you caught up? Or should I just talk about this week? I'll start with just this moment, what I'm feeling, where I'm at now.

I just watched the pilot of "This is Us," and it was so good. The characters are all so interesting, well developed and real, and I love the feel of family the show gives off: that it's not perfect, it's hard work, but it's so incredibly worth it. I also really like that it's a big family, three kids. There was this one scene when one twin was talking to the other when they were older and the girl, Kate, said, "I don't really know who I am if I'm not your sister."

That kind of summarizes the last four years for me. I've been floundering, trying to figure out who is this Lindsey that isn't really Emilee's younger sister anymore. I liked what Kate's twin Kevin responds with, "I know. And you're going to love her." I feel like you would've said the same thing.

Anyway, I'm trying Em. Trying to love myself, I mean. It's kind of hard to do not having you around to remind me who I am. But I've gotten stronger, and I've learned to tell myself it.

I'm heading to Spain in January. I know we talked about returning together, traveling around, going to Paris. Wow.. you never did get there, did you? It was gorgeous. The lights, the Eiffel Tower, you would've loved it all. I'm going back.

I'm kind of nervous about Spain, the language. But it just feels right.. whenever I'm back into it, whenever I talk of Spain, it just feels like a sort of home. I mean I only have good memories there. I felt like that was our family's moment of "This is Us": a happy family, playing and running around the apartment, those fairs in the parking lot nearby, biking in Parque Grande. Remember that time when we were little, and you were biking in front of me and went off the path and started going down the hill, and I was watching it all happen because I was biking behind you and you were dead silent while it was happening but I was screaming for you (Haha)?

Before you ask for an update, no I don't have a boyfriend. But I'm happy. And I wouldn't want to be any different right now, especially as I head to Spain. Sure I hope something happens soon, but this time of waiting, as frustrating as it's been, has been so good for me, so needed. It's helped with that whole reminding myself who I am thing.

In the meantime, I'm so glad this semester is coming to an end. It's been rough; I've been off, it's hard to know I'm leaving my friends, that some of them will be graduating and I won't even be there to see it. And I lost someone who I thought was going to be a friend. Also, night classes just threw me off, makes me groggy and unhappy. And my grief group has left me with little outside staff support and with a new round of members, it has made my heart heavy, hearing the new stories of death and loss. I hope Spain lifts my spirits. I hope it's the escape I've been wanting.

It's weird thinking that I'll be a senior soon. I have no idea what the future holds. It's hard when I know that mom and dad want me nearby, but I can't keep living my whole life letting the fact that I'm an only child now mark all my future decisions and keep me from doing whatever it is I might do. Everything is so unknown, and I don't feel rushed yet to make any decisions, so I am kind of happy where I'm at.

It's funny. My college years so far have matched up with how my high school years went. Freshmen year was amazing, especially my social life. Sophomore year was hard, the feeling of separation (that was your first year at Grove City) and Junior year was both hell and then ended on an incredible note school year wise. Senior year was get out and get gone, but I was established with my friends and knew what I was doing. So hopefully that's what my last two years look like at Eastern.

Em, I miss that sibling feel. Having you tease me, me rushing to come tell you funny stories especially embarrassing ones starring me. I've started sitting on the kitchen counter more since you've been gone, and telling mom my stories. But sometimes they're not the same way I'd tell them to you; they're filtered, adjusted, to what she'd find funny. I kind of forget now how I'd tell them to you.

But every now and then I look back at those videos. The last two I took of us. The one, when we're giggling in the backseat and making fun of dad's strawberry carfreshener, you zooming in the camera on it and telling a story about how "carberries grow in cars, this is a special kind of carberry.." and the second video is mostly you and Makenz. She's so fluffy and young in it. I took it the day we left for John Hopkins.

I really do think my life would be completely different if you were alive. I wonder who I'd be instead. I think I'd be a lot less serious. And probably think less about the world and its problems. It hurts to think about where you'd be now. Mostly because I think of Ethan. I can't go there now.

Well, I guess the last thing you should know is I'm thinking about therapy or is it counseling? Apparently, there's a difference. But I'm thinking the therapy one, family and marriage possibly. It's not for sure; I'm still a little cautious considering I hated my intro to Psych class, but that also had to do with my professor and just it being after lunch and me being an obnoxious freshman talking in the back row. Either way, I feel like I've been able to help people with the grief group. So maybe, for at least a little while more, I'll continue to help in this way.

I am still not 100% sure, though. I still love education and fighting for it to get better. We'll see I guess. Well, I guess you won't.

Maybe you do see me, are watching over me, like some people say to try to comfort me. I wish people would just get the idea that grief isn't something you get comfortable with, it's something you need people with you in, in the uncomfortable. Anyway regardless if that's true it doesn't mean shit to me. I can't see you. I can't hear you, and if you did see me some nights I think it would hurt you. Hurt you to see me in the pain I'm in. So I'd rather you not.

I'll just live my life, try to make it a good one, and fill you in at the end. Hopefully, we won't feel like strangers by then. Hopefully whoever's in my life then won't see you as a stranger.

Goodbye, Em.

P. S.

I miss being called Linds. Scratch that; I miss hearing you call me Linds.

P. S. S.

I'm turning 21 soon. Officially two years older than you. Weird.