Today, as I’m starting to feel like I can breathe again, I went to the mailbox and there was a little white bubble wrapped package waiting for me. My heart stopped for a moment. Hand written on the back it says, “handle with love.” A little bit of light. Just when I needed it. I can’t remember meeting Kyra , but my strongest memory was going to her house, to pray. I evolved from my youth group upbringings, and there are few people from then or from my school years who I keep up with, even in the typical social media ways. I’m not sure if that’s more a reflection on all those people, or me. Maybe it’s because I’m a Two. Regardless, I always followed Kyra. When she started making art, I felt it. I connected somehow. I was staying in a bedroom of a farmhouse with a stranger (she wouldn’t be a stranger for long... in fact she would change my life, but that’s another story) just after splitting up with my ex-husband when Kyra was posting that she needed ...