LOVE LETTER😻😻😻

Dearest Reader, 

As I begin to pen this down, know that in all honesty, I don't know what in the seven hells I'm going to write. A myriad of thoughts crosses my mind. This might be a long read but I'll assure you you won't be bored.

Should I sympathise with you today on our issues of collective importance (you know the usual; Coronavirus, lockdown life and the sexlessness of it, invasion of webinar evangelists on our CL, neck pressers etc?). Should I aim to shock you and render with complete indifference, those ideals you so much hold dear to your heart nonsensical? Should I slander your religion and tell you of how much illogicality and irrationality it is, and how much it insults human intelligence? 

Should I cuss you out for crying after your ex or if you're the type that forms and posts stuff like E shock you say i no reason you again bla bla bla, lemme burst your bubble, nobody cares? Should I remind you of the irrelevance of some silly woke arguments people make today, especially on that Twitter, like the objectification of women, talmbout a fleshy, spicy and voluptuous young woman of 19 should not be in a relationship because she's sTiLl A kID ? As if at the end of the day we're not all objects really, but how many people even understand the concept in the first place?  Should I call you a simp or remind you that singing that Simi's "I really wanna tell you how my day went" will not get you laid and you should make some fucking cash first (pun fully intended)?

Yeah, this isn't looking like its going to be a love story (yeah this isn't fucking Wattpad), or one with a happy ending, who cares about your happiness except you? L.M.F.A.O...maybe those boys you've met online this period who have been sweet-talking you all day and telling you how much they miss you. I laugh, cos they just wan fuck you. And dem go so fuck you ehn, your squirt go dey warm eba. 

You see, I read this novel called Tales of Despereux by Kate Di Camillo in Pry. 4 (I know right, most of you didn't start to read early, to even finish this small article nah wahala for you. Nawa o). Me sef, I no too like book like that sha, but when your classes are super boring and you have a rival classmate that likes to form Hermione Granger wey you been wan chop her eye since, you'll also be reading novels under your desk during Social studies classes.

One main theme of the book is that happiness is a personal property and other people care less as long as you stay useful to them. Friends and family inclusive. As selfish and perfidious (see, read book, you no go listen) as this smells, I find it oddly true. Nobody will really sacrifice their own happiness or safety for yours. Except your mother sha. But how many mothers have you seen volunteer to do time or die for their child when those children are sentenced to prison or death? Can't think of one, if you can, tell me in the comments below. I'll buy you a bridge in Lekki. My point? Nobody gives a fuck about you. No, for real!!

This brings me to question the concept of love and what exactly does it mean. Is it this feeling of contentment, maybe security in a person? Is it this completeness we find in our silences? (Yeah, I adore Chimamanda too. Even if I might not totally agree with her.)

But does this mean that the person to whom this feeling is directed is obligated to reciprocate it? I strongly don't think so. They didn't cause it or at least, didn't mean to. And this is where a lot of problems lie, most times people who stir love feelings in us don't share such feelings. Even if they find us attractive too, when this happens, we might bond for some time for the sex and other physical experiences but it's rarely beyond that and we all know how premiumly hot, those tears that end it are. 

Or do we? Because it's like other people actually find sincere mutual love. Their brain starts this feeling and by sheer coincidence and pure luck, they find a partner who not only tunes in into that frequency of feeling but these two love-saturated beings find themselves mutually attractive, mutual aspirations and it's happily ever after. 

See, this love thing na emotional Nairabet abeg! And need I remind you about the most basic rule in gambling? You cannot beat the House. Nature will always find a way to fuck you without lube. And if by chance, you manage to escape this natural orgy and  you find this person, I say "May the force (fourth, because you know, his bestie and your bestie...) be with y'all. 

I think I said this well with my chest and if, like a muddy splash, it lands on you, feel free to tell me in the comment section below. 

Yours happily ever after, 

Khal 💘💕💖