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You are my friend.
First, I am not trying to get back to you, it’s not worth it. We both know that.
I don’t know the number of times I cried because of you. I’m sorry I wasted my tears on you.
We got intimate. You initiated it. I went along. Yet, you asked me what I wanted from you. To just be your pleasure tool? Why would you go in that direction with a lady and still ask if she wants to date you? I’m sorry I allowed you.
You really love grudges. They give you a hold on people like me who would get peace and resolve conflicts at whatever cost. Call me to get you food… sounds nice for someone you have a definition for. You have no definition for me. I’m sorry I wasted my apologies on you.
I am sorry I let my esteem get pedalled down by your ego.
Of course, you think I am rude again for attempting to tell you what to do and what not to do. At this point, I don’t care. You already read to this point.
You don’t have to remind people of who you are. Why would you always remind me of your age? I am Yoruba and a Christian. I was birthed into respect and brought up to respect those deserving respect and those who show themselves worthy of it.
Forgiveness is forgiveness. No need for ‘terms’ of forgiveness. One who has committed the offence knows and would most likely want to do something to show remorse. I would have done somethings to let you know I was sorry. But you already conditioned your forgiveness.
You are handsome. Caring. Thoughtful. Intelligent. Fun to be with. Romantic. Inspiring.
You are egotistic. Stubborn. Bossy. Disrespectful. Too secretive. Insecure. You said you are demanding… I think it’s more of you always wanting to be right.
Kindly take all these as respectful and needful.
Going back to you would be like those women who still go back to a battering husband instead of seeking refuge elsewhere.
But, I forgive you.
I’ll still get to you in a month, unless you tell me otherwise.