Love: my way.

We tend to be so casual when we say I love you. Whether it is to family, friend, or lover(s) (plural because unfortunately and selfishly, it’s possible to love two people at once-cue Michael Jackson’s “Human Nature.”).

I’m learning to love differently. I’m learning not to love based on emotions or how someone makes me feel. It’s important to me that someone earns my love. Show me that you are worthy to receive these three intimate words. Love, for me, comes from respect, honor, loyalty, trust, communication, and honesty.

I stress the “me” because everyone loves differently. Everyone’s timing is different. Don’t let the next person decide when or how you should love. Love is freedom. Love is fluid. Love doesn’t always need to be reciprocated. Love isn’t staying because you have no choice. Love isn’t a trap. Love is making a decision to leave but still holding down your responsibilities. When you love, you make a judgment call. You make a promise. You give permission.

Love hard, my friends. đź’•đź’•

Advertisements

Reflections on season enders

After the gruesome injury of Gordon Hayward, I found myself in deep reflection. The words from his teammates, words from fellow NBA ballers, and even words from the most hated player, the Black Mamba, sent me into very deep thoughts. Hayward’s season ending injury touched me deeply because: 1) I am a basketball fan and want to see the Celtics do nothing but win. They worked so hard to come to where they are now and winning is important for those who put in the work. 2) His injury reminded me of my life. I have had many season ending injuries and NEEDED to work my way back from them. And when I say injuries, I do not mean of this type. Sure, I’ve had quite a few very painful fractures but nothing compared to this.  My season ending injuries were a little bit more personal. They were setbacks. They were breakups. They were discouragements. They were ending friendships. They were the rebound relationships. They were not getting what I thought I needed, when I thought I needed them. These were things that I planned my life around and they fell short because it just was not my time. They were the letting myself be okay with not being perfect, even though people in my life may view me as such.

Now, the injury was very touching but my God, the inspiration, the deep thoughts, the nightly reflections stems from the recovery process, the mental rehab, the support, the discouragements, the confusion that comes with season ending injuries were the crux of my reflections and continues to be. As I reflect on my season ending injuries and think about how they keep me up at night, bring tears that I shed in the comfort of my solitude,  isolate me from my environment, and create anxious expectations from me, Hayward’s words bring to a place of peace and motivates me to move forward. Season ending injuries are just that. They last for a specific season and with continued motivation, continued rehab, continued work, I improve. Season ending injuries are temporary, in fact, they prepare you for better and greater things ahead.

As I reflect, I see this. I recall a particular season ending injury and how I grew from it. I am a better person after having gone through this. I am better equipped to teach my sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, sisters, brothers how to move from this particular injury. Rehab from this injury not only taught me how to move past it, but also, taught me how to avoid it. One of my above mentioned fractures (see first paragraph) was a thumb fracture. I danced for a long time and when dancing, you learn to fall a specific way. You learn to catch yourself to avoid painful thumps to the ground. You learn to fall gracefully. This particular fracture was as a result of a fall. I did not apply the techniques I learned properly. Moving forward, this fall scared me into submission. I am more conscious of how I will land when I fall and remember to apply the techniques I learned in the past. Application is key. This is what season ending injuries are about. It is not to scare you from doing things again but they teach you how to move on, how to not let it happen again, and how to be stronger and better after. Will they happen again? Yes. I would be lying if I said certain injuries will not occur again. I do not believe in “to win you must lose but losing is a natural part of life.”

I’m using season ending injuries as an example and you might still be thinking, “I’ve never hurt myself before.” You are missing the point. It is not about hurting yourself but it is about the hurdles, the trials, the tribulations, the losses, the deaths, the breakups, that we face in life. Your season might have just lasted a day but there are lessons to be learned even in daily season injuries.

It is hard to prepare ahead for these season injuries, as often they occur so suddenly. But fear not, there is light at the end of the tunnel. I am a living proof that joy does indeed come in the morning. You will find your true purpose, even during your recovery period. But I warn you, take the time to recover. Take the time to heal. Broken people cannot prosper. You will be toxic to your surroundings, including yourself. You cannot move forward you if you find comfort in your pain.

I truly hope you were able to grasp something from this post. I pray that whatever season injury you are currently facing brings a happy and healthy recovery.

How do you deal with season ending injuries?

En tout cas,

Me.

A teenage regression

I am grown. I have grown. I have experienced growth. I am grateful. Now though, in this very moment, in my current space, I feel 16. I feel 16 and not because I am experiencing some crazy teenage love or that childish simplicity. I am 16 because now, at 3something, where I have accomplished one of my most important goal, where I have seen and experienced the trauma, where I have found my peace, I find myself going back to the year I was forced to grow up. The year I did not get to experience because life veered off course. I find myself not really fitting into anything right now because I feel 16. I feel the weight of 16+ off my shoulder. I feel whole. I feel superior to my trials. I feel like the leader of my wilderness. I feel like I can fly because I have overcome. I feel like I owe it to myself to give myself back the year I lost.

How does one act 16? That’s the thing, at 16, I don’t know how to act. I want to be free and I act on my freedom. I want to live my truth and I am living it. I want to rebel against all institutions that bind me and I am knee deep in rebellion. I want to do things on my own terms and now, my terms are priorities. I do not want to be bound by the rules (with the exception of the law..because, well you know) and there currently are no rules.

And because I am grown, I am a responsible 16. I am making good choices. I am deciding who stays and who goes. I am not allowing my heart to experience 16 year old pain. I am being intentional. I am not hiding the truth. I am being purposeful.

I am going with the flow. I’m centered. I’m prayed up. I am watching as God surprises me. I am working on obedience. I am accepting. I am being.  I am 16.

 

Teach me how to…

“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.” Am I the only one that is obsessed with William Shakespeare?  Anyway, the past 29 months have been inundated with learning. I’ve learned so much law to last me a life time. It’s at a point when I want to partake in certain activities, I’m wondering if there’s a Mass. Gen. Law prohibiting it. Besides the law, I’ve learned different things about myself. Some of these things, about me, require a little adjustment (always wanting to be in control and being skeptical of everything and everyone), some I’ve grown to love and stand fiercely in support, and some, not too sure how I feel about, but they are part of the package. I’m sharing because as mentioned in my last post, honesty is crucial. I come raw as ever, mostly because I expect the same in return.

I’ve learned….

To just be. For me, this means to do what I want, feel how I want, love how I want, move how I want, and so on. I don’t want to apologize for being in this space. It’s my time and I’ve given myself permission to be there.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to invite new people into my space because sometimes they help remove the venom of those already in. I’ve always struggled with letting people in because I feared disappointment, I feared lies, I feared people taking advantage of my vulnerability, and I feared people preying on me instead of praying for me. New, good, people are breaths of fresh air. Can’t say they won’t disappoint but my God, they serve a good purpose.

I’ve learned that I am hella skeptical, as above-mentioned. I need to trust more, but this comes with a series of heartbreaks. Not every will always inflict pain. I subscribe heavy to Proverbs 4:23 though: “Above all, guard your heart because everything flows from it.” Truth is, I’m scared and that’s the God honest truth.

I’ve learned that I am fierce protector of every one of my relationships. I literally use my heart as a shield because I want to preserve these relationships. I want them to be healthy and so I guard them. Anything I think isn’t good for them, I keep them away, including people. True story: I have different groups of friends and they’ve only recently come together during my graduation. They love each other, and I’m happy to be that glue that connects them all.

I didn’t recently learn this and some of you already know, but I like to have control. I’m learning to release. Feels good. I’ll have random moments though where things are not going how I think they should, and I’ll bow out gracefully.

I’ve learned that I have no problem leaving toxic relationships. I only want pure and true energy around me. I will exit if your energy disrupts my well-being ( I really mean aura here, but for the sake of simplicty, lol).

I’ve learned that Ritalin and Adderall do not work for me. I’ve learned to calm my ass down in other ways. Trial and error. You’re probably thinking, you don’t seem hyperactive. LOL

Finally, I’ve learned a multitude of other lessons that don’t need explanation:

Give wholeheartedly with zero expectations.

Have zero expectations.

Chase after my freedom.

Love without bounds, those that deserve.

Speak life into my dreams.

Protect my space.

Be open to new things.

Never cease my prayers.

Have you learned anything recently? Care to share?

En tout cas,

Me

 

Been a while…

Hey friends!

It’s been a while since I’ve shared my deepest with you all. A lot has happened in the past few years and it has all been great! My dreams have come to life. I’ve finished law school. I’ve gotten my heart broken just a little bit. I’ve healed. I’ve conquered many giants. I’ve lost some friends. I’ve made some new ones. I’m looking forward to this new journey and sharing it with my faithful readers! I’m not sure if I want to take a new direction with this, but I definitely want to keep the honesty thing going on, because that’s the best policy.

Thanks for kicking it with me in the past, I look forward to ya’ll joining the party again.

BRB

En tout cas,

Me

As I approach 30 tomorrow

Most 29 memorable things I did at 29

1. Completely vegetarian
2. Did the whole love thang..twas great
3. law school
4. Horse back riding in the ocean w. my better half
5. Got two awards for my writing course
6. Went back to church  
7. Forgave
8.  Let go of things that were detrimental to my being
9.  Laid on the bare grass at the arboretum
10. Started oil pulling
11. Learned how to braid my hair ( almost a statistic: #blackgirlsbraid)
12. Pushed envelopes
13. Became an auntie to some babies
14. Moved on from hurt feelings..heartbreak don’t live here no mo
15. Started a blessings jar and quit -overflowed yall
16. Lost my grandfather but we still standing making him proud
17. Entertainment some BS on the road to 30
18. Learned not to clapback…just give sideeyes when necessary
19. Went swimming in the middle of the ocean miles away from shore
20. vineyard in torrential downpour…never again
21. Drove 5hrs for the 1st time after being trampled by a MACK truck
21. Put myself first.
22.  Tried vegan ice cream w an amazing friend
23. Afternoon tea at the Tahj w the same amazing friend
24. Continued to listen to trap music
25. Said no to a lot of things.
26. Headaches didn’t bring me to the E.R. far and few in between (ask me how)
27. Watched a few epi of lhhny. Never again CWA.
28. Found my purpose
29. Continued to unapologetically stand for truth and justice. I won’t ever back down.

#note2self

Because sometimes even superwoman needs to be reminded that she is everything she has ever dreamed she would be

image

Twenty-fine

I am turning 29 tomorrow, and I have no clue how to feel. I am no doubt blessed beyond measure, loved without reservation,  trusted without borders, and truly happy. There were times when I’ve expressed thoughts about feeling under accomplished, but quickly hushed because there was no way someone with my accomplishments can feel like they haven’t done enough. My thoughts, however,  were deeper than my educational/career background.  There were these lofty goals that I initially set for myself that I have yet to achieve,  and often times this leads to the aforementioned sentiment.

I’ve also been thinking heavily about my father. In a previous post I’ve mentioned how hard it was for me to even fathom the idea of being a fatherless child. I have since then hung those thoughts.

The void is still there though. It’s even harder as an adult to be without your father because you have certain expectations. My kids won’t have a maternal grandfather. He won’t be there at my law school graduation. He won’t give my man the speech or silent threat when he acts up. And he for sure won’t be able to walk me down the aisle.  At 29 this last part hurts the most. Sure I’ve got uncles, and they love me, but nothing compares to the love  Dave had for me. It was hands down a pure  unadulterated and unshakeable love. I don’t know how some folks can decide to be out of their child’s life by their own volition. The love of a parent is second to God’s love for humanity. I obviously have to muddle through this because this situation will never change.

In order to fill the void of feeling under accomplished and the feeling of being less of a woman because my dad is dead I want to do great things at 29. Some things will be hard because 9 months of it will be spent slaving over law school books, but we’ll see.

1.  Sit on a rooftop in the rain (with someone who won’t get so fed up and push me off lol….because I act up sometimes)    
2. Summer skip day to the beach (in the works….shhhh don’t tell my boss)
3. Participate/Support a strike
4. Freedom trail (did it 12 yrs ago)
5. Learn to ride a bike
6. Become completely vegetarian instead of the part timer I currently am
7. Run a race
8. Still haven’t had my cupcake and champagne (side eye to my sisters)
9.  Adopt a patient lifestyle (did you read my last blog)
10. Watch the entire 2 seasons of Hannibal over and the 3 movies (because I am so confused) 
11. Do a 30 for 30 blog series (That’s when you do a blog post for everyday of the month. I know what you are thinking lol….but I’ll try)

I’ll add more things to this, and probably do things that I don’t want to share.

Everything aside I am excited for 29. I am thankful and eternally grateful for many things. I look forward for this year to be nothing short of amazing.  I am anticipating some hard times, but the good will outweigh the bad.

L’chaim,

Me

My vice

The other day I was getting so excited about love. I even mentioned to myself how even saying the words “I love you” was felt deep down in my belly (or somewhere close lol). It was a warm feeling,  and truly felt like butterflies. That feeling I got confirmed that it came from the abyss of my soul, and that it was genuine.  My love outburst or for this purpose, bubble was shortly popped.                  

I came across this verse that is often said during weddings, and other love oriented ceremonies. ” Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” My sentiments were not uttered at any of the aforementioned events, in fact they were stated for my own edification- obviously still valid. I stumbled when I read patient. Immediately thoughts of guilt clouded my mind. My love, my being, my way of life was neglected of one of the key elements of love.

I lack patience in every aspect of my life. This vice allows me to make rash and sometimes brash decisions.  It allows me to be frustrated.  It allows me to get upset even when a simple waiting could have cured this. It allows me to want to do it all by myself rendering me to be at times selfish and untrusting of the ability of others to do for me. It allows for me to be an overachiever. It allows for me to take shortcuts instead of trusting the process.  It allows me to feel good when I feel exhausted because I think accomplishing it all on my own is a good fait accomplis. It allows the thoughts of “bust out the windows of his car” cue Jazmine  Sullivan when a simple hear me out would have sufficed for everyone. It allows me to deep sigh and handle situations aggressively instead of with care and compassion.  It allows me to feel like I should retract my I love you because to build patience is an uncomfortable process that I am not prepared for–but I won’t.
                             
You might be reading this and think “Girl, it’s not that big of a deal.” But if we want to be honest with ourselves it truly is. When is a missing part of a whole ever OK?  Can you bake a cake and leave out that 1 teaspoon of baking powder they ask for? Being impatient makes my love liable to fall apart. It makes it immature. It makes it stagnant. It makes it weak, and makes me weak. It makes those butterflies that I feel flutter in vain because if it’s not willing to be whole what’s the point.

I’m holding myself accountable to mend this broken part of me. I’m in no rush because it’s going to be a task. I’m working at working through my discomfort because what lies ahead is so beautiful and so worth it.

Do you have a vice? Does it make you sick?  Does it make you uncomfortable? Does it make you feel incomplete?  Mine does.

En tout cas,
Me

Rape: No uniform and no boundaries

Yesterday evening a plethora of women and men joined in a cathartic moment. They shared what they were wearing when they were sexually assaulted. This conversation started when someone posted an article about a 60 yr old woman being raped in her home. The poster asked the question: “what were you wearing when you were raped?” Some shared information on their 1st, 2nd,  and even 3rd encounter of rape by someone they knew, and was suppose to trust. For some it was their first time sharing,  some wanted to be anonymous, and some quickly shared and deleted after sharing. The point of this sharing moment was not to shame any of the victims or to remind them of those awful moments. The point: rape has no uniform. For some of these women their first assault was at the age of 2. They don’t remember the details, but remembered the violation. It sticks with you forever, and does something to you every now and then. Even if you forgave your attacker it is hard to completely heal from the assault.

Have you had your trust violated by someone you loved, family you trusted, and they took it upon themselves to erase your innocence?  How could you trust the same? I applaud these brave men and women that shared publicly and anonymously because last night they were able to be comforted knowing it was nothing they did, and thousands of us stand with them. I’ll share some of these sans name to respect their privacy.

Also, to the men who were told it was their rites to passage, but deep down they know what it truly was: we acknowledge your struggle, we cry  with you, and we admire your courage. We love you just the same.

To the woman who started this conversation we appreciate you for opening up this platform.

“Age 6, jeans and t-shirt, my brother’s “best friend” forced himself inside of me one day while waiting for my brother to get back home.”

“jeans & t-shirt, my HS bf, my house, my virginity. He justified by telling me “you didn’t say no, you said stop”

“first time 19- long jean skirt and a white blouse with flowers second time 28 sweats w/ a fever of a 102”

“1st 18, jeans, sea green T. 2nd 20, jeans, white sweater, drugged. Bf called me a cheating bitch & dumped me when I told him”

“19 jeans and raincoat, in an elevator. 27 jeans and a purple sweater, roofied. ok RT”

“A tank top and wrap around skirt. Age 5. RT.”

“in my underwear in bed. my now ex-husband said he “needed” it & didn’t take no for answer & after awhile, I stopped fighting.”

“You’re the only person I’ve told. I’m 36, married for 12 years & my OH doesn’t know. I was wearing whatever kids wore in the 80’s.”

“first time, 7 or 8. denim shorts to my knees, polo button up. socks, sneakers. my uncle forced oral. you can tweet.”

“2nd time. Pajamas. Female relative. She was “showing me” what they did on the movies that came on Cinemax.”

“jeans, nbc sports t-shirt, nike running shoes. he was a childhood friend.”

“Navy capri pants, lilac tank top, black cardigan, flip-flops. I was 14, in public. He was my friend. Okay to RT.”

“I was wearing a brown Garanimals-type shirt w/green frogs on it, a brown fringe jacket, Wranglers and B. Brown loafers. 6. OK to RT”

“1st of multiple times by the same family member was at 7…wearing pajamas. 2nd time I was 12…sweatpants and tee…youth pastor”

“12, mother’s friend son, shirt & sweats. Happen twice..told me ill never be pretty enough & it was the only option to take..”

“one-piece bathing suit. I was 17 & a lifeguard. He was a co-worker. It was my 1st job. Ok to RT. thank you for twitter conversation”

“A hoodie and jeans.”

“Jeans, vest top, shirt, and no make up”

“T-shirt and jeans. I was 12. I never spoke of it until my late 20’s. Alway thought it was my fault because I looked nice. (Ok2RT)”

“I don’t even remember what I wore cuz it happened so many times between ages 4-6. Obviously wasn’t wearing anything slutty.”

“I was 4. Pajamas. My brother (11)…My 1st time ever sharing.”

“The first time? I was 8. I had on a sweater and jeans. The 2nd, work clothes: dress pants and a button up blouse”

“Age:13, nothing but a towel wrapped around me. I was just getting out of the shower (Ok to RT)”

“I was wearing a poofy pink Easter Sunday dress. My older cousin did it… It was my 7th birthday.”

“…I got gangraped when I was 19 by some boys I knew in HS. I wasn’t healthy for a year 1/2 after.”

“in my room and forced himself on me. Said I wanted it. Captain of the basketball team at the college near by. (Okay to Rt)”

“Naked and engaging in consensual sex that turned… awry.”

“1. A nightie, 2. a nice blouse and long skirt, and 3. a sweatshirt and jeans.”

“Pajamas. Woke up to assault, I was in grade school (don’t remember exact age). Last time I ever wore a nightgown. Ok to rt”

“23, black dress, sweater. I was in my car, got stuck up at gunpoint.”

“The 1st time I was wearing a pink nightgown, I was 7. The 2nd time I had on jeans and a tshirt @ 22 ok to rt”

“past summer. flower harem pants & long sleeve black linen shirt. my home. RT.”

“Freshman in college by an RA and I had on slacks and I think a button down shirt. (OK to RT)”

“9 years old pink Disney princess pajama set days after my dad died”

“Ages 7-9, usually a nightgown *sigh* Ok 2 RT”

“A dirty Arby’s uniform. 20.”

“1st time: jeans, tank, + a hoodie. Was 14, + was how I lost it. 2nd: jeans and a tee, was 17. 3rd: a dress, 18 at a party. Can RT.”

“1st time I was sleeping in a baggy tshirt & woke up to a stranger inside of me. 5 yr later, the exact same but it was a friend I trusted.”

“My minister threw me down, tore my blue skirt off and penetrated me. 5 minutes later he has leading prayer for the congregation.”

“pink top and blue jeans shorts (first time I remember) 5 years old molested by my stepbrother almost everyday until I was seven”

“3rd time was actually last month when I went to London. I think it was two ppl but I don’t remember. Was too ashamed to say anything.”

“1st rape at 23 blue dress, Betsy Johnson pumps. He held me down and sodimized me. 2nd time my ex wouldn’t take no and forced it in.”

“was 4 when it happened…It’s the only thing I remember of my childhood…Nightmares still come back…I’m 23 now…It was my father. He hates me.”

“I was ten, and in the shower at camp. No clothing on. Camp counselor.”

“my then gf, now wife, was 21. Out w/ her HS friends while I was at work. Jeans & modest top. Woke up after passing out to find her former friend on top of her, having pulled off her pants while she was passed out. You can quote.”

“I had on a salmon colored skirt & top. My grandmother told me that color looked good on me when I left the house. For my date.”

“frilly white dress, white lace tights. he insisted on “helping” me take off said tights; we were at a beach {me: 7, him: 30s-ish}”

“When I was 22, I was brutally raped and beaten by two men. In the hospital for 2 weeks. Jeans, a sweatshirt, and flip flops.”

“Age 18, first ‘real’ job. Business suit/jacket/blouse. Boss. I got away,hit him with chair,complained.He got promoted. OK to RT”

“Molested @ 11 by my ex stepdad. Told my mom. She called me a liar. Never told my dad. Gained 50lbs in mos. to cover the shame.”

“2nd and 3rd time, same dude, break in, same pajamas.. Told me he was falling in love with me as he raped me.”

“Raped by ex-gf @ 17 wearing sweats. Wanted to “make me hate her” (her words) so easier 4 her 2 move on after cheating. Ok to RT”

“On the hood of my car in plain view of my 5 year old sister. She saw everything and is terrified of anyone named ____.”

“4th time was this past September. I’m 24. I had on a church dress and some flip flops. It was outside his apartment complex.”

“I was raped. That’s why I left the Army. Never told anyone publicly (only a select few know about it).”

“I was first attacked at 2 yrs old in my nursery by my mom’s brother. He was trying to force himself into me! I locked my hips.”

“1st time: sundress. 2nd time: tshirt and sweats.”

“Forced himself on me. Removed my panties and I wasn’t aroused and I said no. He didn’t care. Removed my panties…spat on me…and did it.”

“Multiple times when I was little. Probably wearing a nightgown or pjs. & again in high school wearing a graduation dress. RT”

“5 yrs, pink nightgown w/a bow on the neck. My dad had his drunk friends over. I’d made my 3yo sis sleep under the bed that night..”

“office work clothes. collared shirt, cardigan, pencil skirt with tights, flats. you can RT.”

“24. t-shirt & panties. at knifepoint in my own home. I said “no” & almost didn’t live to see today. (ok to RT)”

“On one occasion: Oversize everything. Another: Jeans, shirt. (s’ok to RT)”

“oh yeah and age 2 kinda blurry but rugrats shirt and short set pink sneakers a friend of my mom he had a fish and it was pic day”

“6-10, t-shirt, shorts, pajamas, jeans, dress, didn’t matter. 15 jeans & a t-shirt, 19 sweatpants & t-shirt, 35 a dress. RT at will”

“A navy blue maxi dress from WALMART. I was getting ready for school…To teach. I was 31. 6 am. (Ok to RT.)”

“leggings and a baggy t shirt (ok to rt)”

“I was wearing a tank top, jeans & flip flops. Now I wear loose clothing & a hat when I’m out alone. I don’t want any attention to my body”

“I was wearing jeans and a button up shirt. It’s ok to RT.”

“age 13, pajamas. Age 16, jean skirt and short sleeved shirt. Age 30, ex s/o @ home. Ok to RT.”

1st time, nightgown. I was 5. 2nd&3rd time, jeans and a tee or tank top. 4th time, nothing. It was by my (then) gf, we were in bed. Ages 5, 13, 16, and 22.”

“An old baseball team t-shirt from goodwill and some black pants from NY&CO; my pajamas; a mickey mouse t shirt and jeans. And yes that was 3 separate occasions”

“school uniform….my sorority t-shirt and jeans… A black party dress (can retweet).”

“my school clothes. a jacket, screen print shirt, jeans, and snow boots. Okay to RT”

“I was 12, it was 4 guys. I had on an army green coat and acid washed skinny jeans w/zippers & bows at the ankle. You can RT”

There were so many more stories, but it’s draining.

If you would like to share with us what you were wearing publicly or privately let me know. You are not alone.

xoxoxo

Jae

Previous Older Entries