Happy Birthday to someone I think of as my second momma.
Someone who put up with a grief stricken very depressed and grumpy ghost version of myself, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Someone who had the balls to tell me to pull my heart out of the prison I was keeping in it, in order to catch tiny bits of Paris so that they could inhabit and dance in my veins forever and ever.
fairly certain this was the hottest day in Paris history
Someone who reminds me to find the laughter in every little piece of life. Someone who loves my girl with the same brand of fiery fervor that I do. Someone who inspires me to live bigger and love better, but at the same time, to stop holding myself to impossible standards. Someone who reminds me this balance is attainable, albeit a rocky road that must be ventured down meticulously, joyfully, with gratitude as your armor.
Someone who reminds me to laugh at the ridiculous and clueless, hold tight the ones who are worth it, and always, always, continue to fight the good fight; for myself AND for Cystinosis.
LOVElove.
HAPPYhappy.
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