Friday 14 February 2014

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

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