MOG #50: Consistency, and Courtney

The thing about gratitude is that it's a very deliberate act. You have to recognize it, choose it, feel it. There is a great deal of ownership within the concept. Sometimes it's very hard to decide that and it takes practice to really see it and understand the implications. It's easy to feel grateful when things are great. It's easy to feel gratitude once you realize the abundance of light in your life. It's easy to perpetuate being gracious once you start. But when life inevitably becomes difficult, painstakingly brutal and absolutely unforeseen, it becomes that much harder to see any light, let alone the light of the gratitude.
Yet, it can be done.
The beautiful and selfless Ms. Katie Kolenko just did it.
We met last year when she was leaving for teachers college and I was in need of a room. I knew from the very beginning of my brief time in 134J that I was not meant to fill any shoes;she is irreplaceable. I'm grateful for many things that came out that home; the relationships built with the girls I shared it with, the thoughts that occupied my room, the lessons that came out of moving in and moving on, but I am especially grateful I was able to meet this one. She is a light that is brighter than most. Even in the sunshine, she shines. Here is an MOG from the most kind, generous and strong person, written for someone she has recently lost. Clearly written from a caring and grieving heart that has been touched by an angel. 
My suggestion is to listen to load these songs before you read,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BRdY0NR08g
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miOEmyjpLkU


She was a beautiful and shining soul.

For the people we are lucky to meet in our journeys - those who change us in some way, help us grow, inspire us, love us - we should be the most grateful. That is one thing I know to value above nearly everything: the special people you have in your life, ones that have come and gone and ones that are lucky enough to still be in it, and even those who seemed to have barely touched down but almost surely made an impact whether you have noticed yet or not. They are the ones you should demonstrate the most gratitude toward, for whatever length of time their lives intertwine with your own. I place a great deal of importance on experiencing and embracing independence. A relationship with yourself. I enjoy solitary moments probably more often than is good for my social life... but our relationships with others, the efforts we make to engage with one another and celebrate each other and be changed by one another, is what truly brings “life” to this life. So, if those relationships don’t deserve consistent gratitude, I don’t know what does.

I do not have a blog or some public forum of writing; certainly if I did have one, it would not be nearly as inspiring as this one and I don’t mind admitting that one bit. And I do love this blog, and the message it shares daily. I make a conscious effort to think about it on a similarly frequent basis, and today was one of those occasions. I thought about how I was grateful for my best friend and how her own blog and journey of happiness had inspired me a couple mornings ago... MOG 1 through 49 made me realize that it would be completely selfish to keep this gratitude to myself, and not share it with her. I don’t believe in doing positive things or being a “good” person for the result of being noticed and receiving recognition, but I do believe that it is important to let others know they are appreciated, or that they’ve inspired someone/something. That sounds like a contradiction. I don’t mean it to be. The thing is, sometimes you’re lucky enough to realize that you can thank a person or say something to them, like I did today. Other times, you are forced to acknowledge the brutal reality that there are days you are not so lucky, and will not get another opportunity to tell a person something directly, like I was forced to acknowledge one 2-in-the-morning scroll through Facebook, Feb.18.

Funny how the good ones go, too soon, but the good Lord knows the reasons why, I guess. Sometimes the greater plan is kinda hard to understand; right now, it don’t make sense.

I can’t make it all make sense.

The truly lovely founder and writer of this blog, I’ve learned, seems to have the ability to just know when there are emotions in someone that need some tending to. Beyond that, she has the insight to suggest a way in which they may be tended. So she asked if I wanted to write something. She won’t know how much that meant.

I have rambled more than my share already, so I will try to keep future rambling to a minimum. Courtney - who she was, what she’s done, and the legacy she will continue to have - will persist, with or without great detail from me. Friend/Family/Lover/Teacher/Cancer-survivor/Volunteer/Believer/Athlete/Motivator... the list is endless and surpasses the limitation of words.

I met Courtney in Teacher’s College. Oh, did she ever find her perfect profession. She went to OISE and I went to York, and by the connection of our brilliant and beloved teacher, both made the decision to spend our third placement in Kenya, Africa. Three weeks seems like a hardly significant time. But I’m sure many of you can agree, and I know those who were with me on that journey certainly will: it can be of the utmost significance. I have a few favourite memories of Courtney that I almost began to type, but those details I think I will save. Instead, I will say that I remember her as the girl with whom I began my journey at our campsite by making our very first interactions with our young Kenyan neighbours - her, initiating, slowly and carefully bridging physical distance, enticing laughter and smiles through silly dance moves that were echoed back to us from across the field, thus symbolizing the beginning of new relationships and life experiences. I remember her as the girl I sat with under the wide expanse of night sky on one of the very first nights, finding our constellations hidden behind the clouds, with the help of our stargazing app. I remember her as the girl who I had just begun to know, and yet already remembered tiny seemingly insignificant facts about me, and came rushing to find me the moment she spotted my very favourite Ursa Major and, as she witnessed my reaction, amazed me by mirroring my excitement in her own face. I remember her as the girl who repeatedly made me stop in my tracks in amazement, as I found her taking the time to connect with people with such ease, in a way I sometimes forgot to, often didn’t know how to. I remember her as the girl who shared my apprehensions of coming back to our typical reality, and understood and felt things I didn’t need to describe. I remember her as so much, and I am grateful for every bit of memory whether mental, written, or photographed I possess of her. I am also deeply and exceedingly grateful for the rest of our group, who were there to hold hands with and share pain and love with, as we said goodbye together to her physical self last weekend, taking solace in the fact that we understood each other and our emotions. Their presence whether it is near or far is something I so severely rely on whether they realize it or not.

~

Courtney was (note: the distinction between was/is will forever be strange and painful) a genuine, shining light of a human being. She radiated kindness, love, thoughtfulness, generosity, humbleness, and a true passion for helping others. She was being the change, she was making a difference. She will continue to inspire me daily, in so many ways.

So long, my friend. Until we meet again.

My heart is devastated that you've left us far too soon; we love you Courtney.

MOG #49: Across the Kilometers

You've meet Kathleen before, (re: Unhooking), and she's back with some more gracious thoughts to share. Her words always fall off the screen and into my lap the way that stories were read to me growing up; there is a wisdom here, a sense of nostalgia and a overarching theme of all the ways love can manifest. 

We met when we were in grade 9. Two 14 year olds, with so much in common; including our first names. Yes Kathleen and I quickly became best friends and dubbed ourselves KathleenSquared. We shared a lot of life experiences and we shared a social group for most of high school. We did a lot of typical high school best friend things. We went shopping, bought matching shirts, took selfies, played the piano and karaoke’d songs. We went bowling, went to fairs, had sleepovers and attended one another’s parties. We talked about boys; we coached each other about boys and were there for each other over MSN, the phone or in person when life threw knocks to our teenage selves.

A few years ago she went away to a Catholic University which was quite a distance from where our homes are. That was no obstacle; we moved from MSN and the land line to cell phones and Facebook.  In her second year she started dating a guy she had met at school. I was more than happy for her, thankful that she had found a good guy after some of the iffy guys she had been involved with in high school. In the winter semester of my second year which was the end of her third and final year she called me one day at 2am to tell me that she was engaged. I was overjoyed.

A couple months later while she was sleeping over for a few days she asked me to be a bridesmaid. Naturally I said yes. It was the very first time I had been asked to be in a wedding. We got to planning and the date was set for the following summer.  Around the same time she announced that she was going back to school but this time she was going to BC. Yes, she was going even further away then she had been before and was also planning a wedding.

Over the course of that year from Ontario to BC we talked often, with her wedding being a major topic. Being so far away from each other I think we only saw each other once on Christmas break. If I had been with her I think I would have known or at least sensed “it”.

“It” did not come to light until May, a few months before her wedding. I got a phone call one afternoon; it was Kathleen. I wasn’t expecting her to call. She was crying and the next thing I knew she was telling me she had broken off her engagement and called off the wedding. I hadn’t seen it coming. I wished I had. I wished we lived closer together. I tried to hug her with my words over the phone. I told her I would support her no matter what happened and I stuck to that.

Life went on, people were really hard on her but I honestly believe(d) she had made the right decision. Marrying that guy was not the right thing for her to do. Better to call it off and discover later it was the right thing rather than go ahead and do it and discover it wasn’t right. That summer she was back home in Ancaster and I was in Burlington and so we were able to spend some time together.

During the summer she introduced me to a male friend of hers. The first day we spent all together we went to Canada’s Wonderland. I watched them together and I wondered to myself in my all knowing best friend way if this guy was actually the right one.

Early last fall she called me and told me that she was dating that guy: I was in no way surprised to hear this and once again I threw my support behind her as others scoffed at her for dating a guy so soon after breaking her engagement and wedding. But I just knew it was the right thing.

At Christmas I saw both of them and became more assured that this guy was indeed the right guy. As the semester got rolling I had the itch to travel and spent hours looking at all inclusive vacations, cruises and Groupon’s. 11 days before Reading Week began I was suddenly struck by the idea of going to BC to visit Kathleen. I called her and found out she could make it work for the week so the next thing I knew I was booking flights. I was going to BC to visit my best friend for Reading Week.

Reading Week is now drawing to a close and I am back in Ontario. I spent a joyous and beautiful few days with Kathleen and her hilarious gentleman boyfriend who is skilled in opening two car doors for two ladies at one time. I made the right decision. It was the best Reading Week I could have imagined. BC is beautiful, it was 9 degrees Celsius which felt warm compared to the Ontario winter we have had.

I have been learning over the past couple of years that friendships can very quickly change for a variety of reasons and if you have a friendship that remains strong and you are still close, even across the kilometers; THAT is a friendship you should hold onto. I am never letting go of her. I am so excited to see what happens in the future; for our friendship and for her relationship with the right guy; the sun is shining bright on us.

Love you Kath, Thanks for being so loyal and steadfast in this ever changing world.

MOG #48: Dance first, think later

I have always wished I could dance. I know dancing is one of those natural human qualities, like running or learning or even how to make an apology, where it takes time, effort and patience, but for me I just focused on other things (like running and learning and perfecting the art of persuasive rhetoric) instead of moving my body to measured time. But it truly is an art, a lovely: physically telling stories through expression, limbs, rhythm- it even sounds lovely. So many of my favourite people are dancers and I have to say I admire that hobby in those I come in contact with, like my best friend's roommate Kelsey. The two of them have shared a lot this year, one instance in particular was when Alex took photos for Kelsey's company showcase. Alex and Kelsey; two beautiful girls- dance and photography, two well crafted passions, and words tying everything close, all coming together to create something really, really beautiful. 
"Mary - I decided to take you up on the MOG. But lately I am grateful for something way more special than a $550 bursary. I have a team of dancers beside me that is greater than even the best-paid sports team." Understatement of the century: these past few months have been challenging. In true Kelsey Allen form, I bit off more than I could chew this semester and have found myself singlehandedly directing a dance company, managing a small dance association, and spearheading the amalgamation of three companies. Although the use of the word “singlehandedly” doesn’t account for the large group of beautiful people who have been integral to my survival and success in the midst of all that chaos. My titles range from “director” to “manager” to “dictator” to “second mom” on any given day. I am responsible for the growth, success, health, and well-being of 34 young dancers. But I rarely let them know how reciprocal our relationship truly is. Being a leader, society expects you to have all the answers. You’re expected to stand on your own two feet, never falter, and make all the right decisions. I’ve known from the beginning that I couldn’t be that person. I have come to understand leadership as a constant process of growth and learning. And, fortunately for me, I have a team who lets me grow and learn every day. When I need to take a personal day, they shower me with cute text messages and snapchats – and when I return, they are waiting with open arms to make sure I am okay. When we are left two dancers short two weeks before competition, they ask “What can we do?” instead of “What are you going to do?” And when I screw up, they just love me even harder. I think it’s a love like this that everyone should aim for. It is this love that motivates me every day. It is their love that sits silently with me through even the loneliest of times. It is their love that informs every decision I make. These kids (because that’s really how I see them – as my kids) truly are my heart and soul. So, my MOG goes out to McMaster Dance Company. I love you all.

MOG #47: ReJoyce

Today's MOG comes from one of my favourite people ever; Lacey.  She's someone I can look to for advice, for support and for a laugh- what more could you ask for in a friend? She wrote some very beautiful words for some very special people in her life.Today is my parents 26th anniversary. To give you a little back-story about my parent’s marriage — they eloped at City Hall. 

They decided to get married on February 14^thand went to the courthouse on February 22^nd.  They wanted a small, intimate ceremony with only two witnesses, my dad’s twin sister and a family friend. My moment of gratitude revolves around the example that my parents constantly set for my brother, sister and I of a strong healthy relationship. 

My parent’s marriage has kept our family sane as they raised three children ridiculously close in age (currently 21, 22 and 23 years old). From tagging off between hockey practices, karate lessons, and wrestling tournaments, they were our number one fans providing us with every opportunity possible to engage in whatever activity we wanted to do that year. Working together through thick and thin, they provided us kids with strong values of family, love and trust.

A moment that tome defines my parent’s relationship was a vacation that they took four yearsago. My parents took a week-long vacation in the summer as they always do, however this time they stayed home, rented scaffolding and painted the siding on our house together. That was their vacation. Spending long hours in the heat talking, and painting all week. And, here’s the kicker: they actually enjoyed it! It takes a special kind of relationship to experience any level of joy in that “vacation.”
  

Another moment that displays my parents’ strong relationship, and the moment that sparked this MOG was the other day when I caught my parents racing each other to make their bed. My dad yelled out “ready, set, go!” and they were off. Of course, I joined in cheering for my mom; my dad was cheating (as usual) pulling the covers out of my mom’s hands. It’s these goofy moments that happen day-to-day where they make silly challenges, whose batch of homemade jam tastes better, or racing each other for the TV remote, that exemplifies the strong, loving relationship that they demonstrate for us.

Happy anniversary you two; I am grateful you found each other.

MOG #46: Absolutely nothing

Yesterday I went to bed angry. Today I woke angry. Sometimes sleep does that awesome thing of changing your perspective, other times sleep won't work through your problems unless you do.

This was a message I sent yesterday: "today I had to be Family Mary, Work Mary, Best Friend Mary, High school teacher Mary, Student Mary and Newspaper Mary, MOG Mary and I'm just running on empty".

I got a sympathetic response, an encouraging pep talk and I was off to bed because I was out of words and short on dreams.


When I walked downstairs my dad lead me to the kitchen where he lead me to a little breakfast art. A completely random gesture, but a move pretty typical of my dad; but humbling none the less. 
How lucky am I to even have all these responsibilities and passions and things to associate myself with? Every facet of my life is an opportunity I need to recognize as a fleeting moment; it's mine but only for now. 
I ate that cute little spread before dashing out the door to go to my favourite place of work with one of my best friends and spend the day planning my summer, finding sales, munching on sour keys and have conversations with my favourite people.

I needed to remind myself that there really are no bad days; just bad moods.

I have absolutely nothing to complain about and much to be grateful for. 

MOG #45: The wake up

One of my earliest memories of Marissa is talking to her on the playground and her showing me the latest dance she was practicing for competition season. One of my more recent memories with her happened one blurry night downtown where we found each other on the dance floor and took a minute to catch up. Through our life updates came numerous "I'm so proud of you!"'s and a couple "that's amazing! good for you!". A very supportive reunion on both accounts. When a Facebook status of hers came across my timeline I read half of it before I messaged her to write an MOG. Her enthusiastic response was nothing short of what I had expected from this genuine, loving and brave girl I had seen come to know during recess and in that crowded bar. Let her words resonate with you through a very unexpected story as much as they did me and her circle of friends. 

Last week, I was headed up to Kingston to visit my friend for her birthday and drove into some bad weather along the 401. I hit some black ice and lost total control of my car causing me to swerve off the highway. My car rolled over multiple times into a deep ditch and is now completely totaled. After being rushed to the hospital and finding out that I’m okay, the paramedics told me that they dealt with multiple deaths that week from the same type of accident I just experienced. Hearing that made me think critically about how come I am deserving of another chance over the other casualties. I am not one to live life in a cautious manor. I abuse my body and have spent a lot of time looking at the negatives in my life as opposed to the positives; feeling sorry for myself from other things life has thrown at me. After loosing my father to cancer 3 years ago I lost faith in God as I have had trouble believing that if there was a God, how could he take someone so important away from me. This whole experience however has definitely been a wake up call and made me change my mindset. We all tend to think were invincible and that it’ll “never be us” but its times like this where you realize how precious life really is and that in the blink of an eye it can be taken from you. I have restored my faith in God as I am so lucky and thankful that I managed to get out of the accident alive, and in one piece. I have no doubt in my mind that my father was looking down on me and played a role in ensuring my safety. I have always hoped that his since his passing he was still present in my life and I feel as though this is proof that he is my guardian angel looking out for me. Not everyone gets a second chance at life, and for the first time in a long time I feel like God has a plan for me and that I am worthy of a good and happy life. I will not take another day for granted as each day is a gift and needs to be cherished. I am grateful for my life, all the wonderful family and friends in my life and a chance to start over.

Marissa: "Yes use that one picture; it kind of looks like a celebratory picture and I am celebrating life!"

MOG # 43: Love loves, love

• K: Who should I address the letter to? Myself in different stages of my (love) life over the years? To the new man? To 'him'? M: To love, write to love. Be grateful for al the ways love has manifested in your life K: Yes, perfect

If you know her, you know she does not need an introduction. If you don't know her, just read the words she's strung together  and at the very least you can at least know a part of her. An honest, detailed and harmonious account from a girl who's just like a diamond- multifaceted, hard exterior, rare, cut for clarity and been through quite a bit, on her own and complete, but can still travel well, and overall,  still shining. Thanks for a very fitting post for this very special Valentine's day, Kelsey (@mintcovered, happymintcovered.blogspot.com).

M.O.G, & M.O.L

The first time I heard those three magic words, they were in repetition back to me, echoed so quickly they were practically stumbled over. That’s right – I said them first! And that essentially accurately preludes the next decade of my love life.

I had these fantasies of Love growing up. Dancing through my head, inspired by various young teen romance novels, Marissa Cooper and Ryan Attwood, and Dashboard Confessional lyrics, I have proof of Love’s early hold on me – just take a quick flip through my 13 year old journal (which I’ve been doing lately… terrifying). And while others would agree that was pretty naïve (and typical) of a 13 year old girl to form her earliest perceptions of Love around, I in fact … was not so far off. And that is what this MOG is dedicated to today, on this loveliest of all days: my gratitude towards Love, and how it has continuously played out for me, more often than not, just like a fairy tale. I can say with genuine confidence (and perhaps a hint of conceit), I have been one of the luckiest people I know, when it comes to Love.

Take that first moment, almost 10 exact years ago to this date. If I am describing the circumstances in which I shared those three whispers for the first time, I would be lying if I didn’t mention the honest to god fact that me and my first ‘real’ boyfriend were lying in the middle of his street, during the anticipated lull of 2am traffic, hand in hand, gazing up at those lights; green, yellow red. Green, yellow, red. And so when you’re first big moment with Love is hand delivered to you by Nicolas Sparks, you can generally assume it’s going to be a pretty wonderful ride.

And do not get me wrong! I am worlds less naïve about the challenges and heartache that Love brings. She can be a complete and total bitch at times. At a lot of times, even. And I’ll never shy away from those weakest of moments in my life that shaped and grew and sometimes hardened this heart of mine throughout the past decade. But those moments are perhaps more significant than the rainbows and sunflowers of proper love, because of course they carry you through always more grateful than before, when Love does come tapping on your window again.

And that is why I have been so fortunate. No matter how many times I tell myself not to (usually 3 billion within that first week of each break up), I have never ever managed to shy away from Love. I have always let my heart remain open to the possibility of it. I am absolutely unable to let the potential of my Next Great Love pass me by simply because people tell me (namely my father..), “you should just try being single for a while!” I’ve tried that! I’m crap at it. Because I have always quite quickly met the next boy who I know has it. And so far (touch wood?), I have never been wrong. My judgement has never been off. Every single boy I have taken the chance on by jumping into the next relationship with (usually quicker than the time it takes to even tie up the previous loose ends), has turned out to be life changing. Long-term, all-consuming, world-altering Love.

I consider myself to have had six real Loves of my Life {so far} in my 23 years. My first love, sweet and innocent, crumbling at our very first eventual fight. My young love, brave and bold, spinning me ‘round, even when we weren’t on the dance floor. My high school sweetheart, the most intense and remarkably educational experience I’ve ever had. My southern sweetheart; the quickest rush I have ever felt in my life; the shortest relationship, the longest-lasting longing. My future husband, the ring and the home and the children’s names picked out. And my travel buddy, my most accurate other half, my best yet match.

Six incredible young men. Six entirely individual, unique experiences. Six significant pieces of my heart belong to those boys in those days of my life, and I will never ask for them back. Because I don’t have one negative thing to say about any of them. Not in the end. I owe them the majority of my entire self, guiding me through Love to become who I am today. And I will be eternally grateful for all that they shared with me, put me through, helped me to discover, and left me to anticipate. 

I've had mixtapes, photobooth kisses, I've had slow dances outside in the rain, I've snuck in and out after hours, I’ve kissed on a park bench til the sun came up, I’ve been compared to the dizzy feeling of looking up into the vastness of a star scattered sky. I’ve had surprise visits to my school during lunch hours, I’ve been twirled and dipped and lifted in the middle of a crowded dance floor, shown off. I’ve received 21 plastic Easter eggs filled with 21reasons why I was loved. I’ve been someone’s constellation. I’ve had fireworks, I've had candle lit steak dinners, homemade with white lights laced around the back deck. I made love for the first time on a Valentine’s Day. I’ve had love letters and bouquets delivered to my place of work, to my front porch, to my classroom door. I’ve had prom invitations spelt out in roses, I’ve had promise rings slipped on under blankets and stars with whispered certainties. I’ve had the mentions of marriage post break-down, during quiet late night back road drives. I've had fast cars and wild nights, I've had some incredibly romantic evenings in a trailer park. I’ve been tricked into fantastic first kisses, I’ve been someone’s pen pal, Skype date, feeling of home. I’ve spent an entire night under the stars in the middle of a baseball diamond, I had the best Christmas eve of my life, two-stepping in a windstorm in some old abandoned parking lot, learning the words to all of my favourite songs, learning the steps to all of my favourite moves. I have felt the forbidden, and dove in anyway. I’ve had thousands of tiny yellow chicks, I've had surprise scavenger hunts leading me to Tiffany’s front door steps, I have an account with Charm’s Engagement department… I have worn a ring on my left hand. I have had sweet, authentic Italian words whispered into my skin, late nights on Fischer Price play set furniture, sharing boxes of wine, I've felt hearts speak when language was a barrier. I’ve had reasons in a basket, one for every day (two for the hard days), I had a pet fish delivered to my university lecture hall. Post it notes, ADHD limericks. Cottage nights on the dock, under the stars, boat rides around the island, a bunkie that felt like a 5 star honeymoon suit. I’ve spent an afternoon lying in the lap of a loved one, gazing up at the Eiffel Tower. And an evening on a secluded terrace in Barcelona. I've ridden bicycles through the apple orchards and vineyards of Italy, dipped our toes in tiny rushing streams. I have heard those three words for the first times under traffic lights, in a dark hallway, yelled at me in the middle of a house party, in an F150 pick up, in a family minivan parked out by our baseball diamond, in the middle of a crowded dance floor, running through the hallways of Georgian College residence, at a train station, and via bbm while in Venice, because it simply could not wait any longer.

Every single boy I have ever spent significant time with has bared his soul, and those three words, to me. This is why I consider myself one of the luckiest people I know, in the face of Love. But to be completely truthful, sometimes I still catch myself trying to figure out why. Trying to understand why I got to be so lucky, as to have felt real live Love from so many different sources. Why me?

And this is the most important part of it all (as I'm sure you had predicted!) … I have been blessed with more than my fair share of remarkable love, because I have remained, in many ways, that same 13 year old girl who turned to that boy 10 years ago, in the middle of the street, and professed my love. I took the chance. I made the move. I reached out and grabbed Love by the heart and I never ever let go. I am a go-getter of smiles, and of happiness. The kind of happiness that is only real when shared. I have always been confident and proud and my own biggest supporter when it comes to matters of the heart. I am intuitive, I am perceptive, I am resilient, I am retentive. I am genuinely, sincerely, entirely appreciative. I am grateful for all that I am! Because I love who I am! I love how I have let the love of so many make me who I am. I love that I have continued to learn, and grown, and shine in love. And I love that even though this is my first solo Valentine’s Day in eleven years, I am smiling from ear to ear. I have had the best of love, while still knowing there is even better to come. I am grateful for that. I am grateful for them, I am grateful for me. I am grateful for love.

Take a moment today to recognize how truly incredible you are, not just the special one who gets to spend today with you. Allow yourself to feel selfish, to speak with conceit, to smile with full confidence that no matter how many fantastic people will come in and out of your life, YOU are the #1. Love yourself first, and your fairy tale will come, inevitably.

Love always,

Kels Oke
mintcovered