​wrote a letter to you once, Future Husband, but I wrote it based on someone I liked. I’m getting married to you, so obviously that didn’t work. I don’t know you or what you look like, I may never meet you but here’s how I feel. I am writing this from a really low place, so I’m going to try as much as I can to be honest.
I am 26 now, and I do realize that my clock is ticking according to my African background. I also do realize that I am anything but traditional, so I’m neither desperate nor in a hurry to get married. I miss you. I know it sounds strange but I do. I probably have already met you, I most likely haven’t but I can’t wait to know you. I am a broken woman laden with insecurities and distrust and I am not ashamed…

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