Kayla Kostyniuk

I am here to tell you that everything you are feeling and experiencing, everything you think you may never heal from, is so human, and it doesn’t make you less worthy of the life you crave.

I wonder if I will ever write another love letter or if it is just another one of the things that I have stopped altogether since you.

It is a privilege to wake up each day and not have to take medication before you do anything else. It is a privilege to not have to think about antidepressants at all, actually.

If there is one thing I know for sure in this life, it is this: be so damn thankful for every moment you get with the one you love.

I believe broken-hearted humans are wildly misunderstood.

I like untamed souls, the ones that have a honeycomb for a heart – the souls who love sweetly and without limits, offering warm and comfy shelter from the storms of life, possessing an empathetic spirit that knows no bounds.

Remember the days you thought you wouldn’t survive, yet here you are, reconstructing your life.

This is for the boys who have yet to become men. This is for the boys who build weak foundations upon misogyny and big dick energy, coasting through life on their carefully crafted and violently fragile egos. This is for the boys who keep going when we tell them ‘no.’

I used to feel so much shame around using medications, and truthfully I still do, but I am working through it every day and making progress.

Missing you means not knowing whether I will ever feel my heart swell again the way it did at the sight of you, the sound of your voice.

I can still feel your fingers leaving imprints on my skin, along my spine, marking your territory for the rest of time.

I think about the place we met, the first time I saw you. It nearly stops this bruised heart I carry within me, the heart I can hardly call my own.

I would tell her that her mistakes and messy moments will not define her, and that forgiveness begins inside the walls of her ribcage.

Many of the people we end up loving and choosing will not have the capacity to love and choose us back.

The day I met you – no, the moment I met you — I just couldn’t help myself. I went and built a home for you in my chest within the walls of my ribcage.

Trust that the best days of your life are still on their way to you.

You don’t measure love in time. You measure love in the way they stirred your spirit and made you feel alive.

Three years have passed since you left your earthly bodies and gained your angel wings among the clouds; 1,095 days, 26,280 hours.