Well, there is a story behind this… Err… Long story, but sha, anything you see here can’t be used against me whatsoever. Who knows, I might ave been joking.. *shrugs*
Anyways, I wrote a special letter for a special person. Whether she exists or not is my business, sha Enjoy. 😉
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Err… this I don’t do frequently but then, for you I’ll go all the way.
I remember the first day I saw you; you didn’t quite fit the description in my credentials, I mean I had a list all right but you didn’t fit bill perfectly. I had prayed to God all my childhood for him to grant my wishes but you have given me reasons, lots of them, to compromise. Just so you know, my mum never approved of girls of your kind exactly, “You must marry a dark, tall Yoruba girl and nothing else” She had said. That statement dashed my hopes of marrying a white lady or a fair Igbo or hausa girl (
no beef with yoruba girls though) and I was cool with it all this while until I saw you in a different light and now disobeying my mum has never seemed so likely.
I hope you remember the first day we met in person, can’t quite remember what you were wearing; you looked like every normal girl, we got introduced, had a little chit-chat and I was on my way. I didn’t even look back; that was how uninterested I was and how obedient a son I was to my mother. We saw a couple more times, and I began to see your beauty, I even mistakenly imagined us together but kicked the thought out of my mind as soon as it came in. I set up a date with you, it wasn’t that bad for a first date but one of us wasn’t interested and it clearly wasn’t me; so I gave up and quit trying and sort to continue the wooing during the holiday; “who knows you would like me without the tie and suits on” but alas! You were too far off and I was farther in distance and meeting in person was impossible so I resorted to us talking on phone.
It’s being a month and 14 days since we resumed school and now I ant get you off my mind. Your smile is stuck up in my head and I can’t seem to get your name off my mind or lips. We’ve sha met in school a couple of times, we chatted, hung out but it still doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t feel complete.
I read in a book once that “IT” ain’t true if both parties are not involved but how do I make you interested? Even friends have told me to let go and let you be, “You’re not meant to be” they say but NO! I refuse to agree, I’ve lost too many chances in being happy with a special person and I ain’t losing this one too. It took me ages to determine how to get across to you and Vals day seemed like a very good medium. So I sit here scribbling my words on this piece of paper and am wondering where you are. Are you thinking about me? Does the effect this season is creating give you the chills? Do you want to be with me?
I’m hoping you’re reading this now; I sincerely hope you are. I would have loved to send it to you personally but the fear of rejection haunts me; What if am in your friend zone? What if am just one of your acquaintances? The What If’s plague me and am scared.
I can’t promise you what every other guy would promise; I won’t but you the occasional Iphone or Peruvian hair every month; I won’t take you out on dates to Sheraton and Hilton every now and then; neither can I promise to sing sweet melodies to you every night but what I have, I’ll give. I can promise you I’ll write letters to you every single day; I’ll do the occasional proposal ish on tape and upload it to Keek for the whole world to see; I’ll visit the gym everyday so you wont have need of Channing Tatum; I’ll visit the saloon everyday so you’ll have your personal Chuck Bass; I won’t lie to you neither would I cheat on you; Your picture would be my Dp permanently and I’ll only change it on days when Manutd play but it’ll be back up immediately the game ends; this I promise and many more I’ll do and to the very last bit but first I need you to know that this letter is for you. Yes, it’s on my blog and yes, I’ve probably given some funny excuse as to how I was joking when I wrote it but this is true, this is me calling out to you. You can ignore this and call me bluff, but just know, I won’t stop trying, not now, not anytime soon.
I’m tempted to end this with asking you to be my lover like Banky W did but I’ll not place my hopes too high and I’ll just ask you to be my valentine.
So, Miss XXXXX, Would you be my Valentine?
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