What was supposed to be

Theres a particular ache in grieving a future that will never arrive. Not just the person or the moment lost, but all the tomorrows that were supposed to hold them. This book sits with that ache — the quiet devastation of plans rewritten by loss.
You know the feeling. The anniversary that now marks absence instead of celebration. The milestone theyll never witness. The life you were building that now feels like a half-finished house, exposed to weather you never expected. And somewhere in the rubble, a voice asks: *What now?*
This book doesnt have a blueprint for rebuilding. Instead, it offers something more honest: a way to honor whats gone while still stepping toward whats possible. It explores how grief can actually expand your capacity for hope — not the shallow hope of "everything happens for a reason," but the deep, unsettling hope that emerges when you accept that some things have no reason at all.
What was supposed to be is for anyone standing at the crossroads of loss and possibility, unsure how to move forward without betraying what theyve lost. Growth here isnt about replacement. Its about learning to hold both grief and hope in the same hands, and finding that neither diminishes the other.