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Proof that we did it. That we went through it. That we learned something. That our hearts were broken. That we were loved. That we weren’t loved enough.

Kayla Chobotiuk

today’s idiom from my changyu calender read, “one day, three autumns”, meaning when you miss somebody, twenty-four hours can feel like one thousand and ninety five days.

I miss your laugh, your tired gaze, the tangled curls of your hair. you.

Our hearts beat so loud 
the neighbours think we’re fucking
when I’m just trying to find the nerve to touch your face.
You don’t ask God how long this will last.
I don’t care about any of the words on the map besides
You are here.

Andrea Gibson