09/05/2026
Two years. Today it’s been two years since you died.
It’s been three years and four months since I saw you for the last time. I don’t know how long it’s been since I hugged you. I wish I knew. I wish you knew how much I would’ve given for one more.
The feeling of being an inadequate big sister has been haunting. What if. Again and again and again.
And every spring the cycle starts over. Because spring was yours. Mom and dad were summer. Nora was winter. I was autumn.
I sit here looking at the cherry blossom trees thinking about everything that could’ve been. Your talent. Your potential. Who you really were underneath all the darkness.
But the truth is also that if you were still here today, and still sick, I don’t think things would’ve been much better. And that’s one of the most brutal things about loving someone with addiction.
After years of fear, hope, lies, chaos, and death knocking on the door over and over again, you eventually carry so much anger and frustration that you almost forget to live yourself. At least I did.
And the truth is that when someone has reached the place Trym had reached, the chances of fully recovering are very small. That was something I never truly believed before things ended the way they did with you.
So yes… it probably still would’ve been hell if you were here. But not because you weren’t wonderful. Because the illness was that brutal.
And the strangest thing about grief after addiction is that when the chaos disappears, the beautiful memories start coming back. And that is incredibly beautiful. But also incredibly painful. I thought I was prepared for this. I wasn’t. There are so many what ifs. What if I had tried harder. I think when an addict dies, the tragedy usually started years earlier. But f**k if I know. I’m still trying to understand it myself.
I miss who you really were underneath it all.
And it hurts even more because I’m standing in a place in life we used to dream about together. You had so much in you.
I’m so sad that so many people in my life never got the chance to meet the beautiful side of you.
So yeah. I miss you.
