What is love?

I don't answer the question, unfortunately

Everyone has written a valentine post and as a chronic yappaholic with FOMO and access to her laptop once more, I wasn’t missing this opportunity.

As a child of God, I’m at home (looking at you

MUBARAK

)

The first line of this hit me as I was about to go to bed last night.

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I remember being seventeen and asking what love was.

Love according to the books I was reading at the time was intense. It was a life-altering, mind-numbing emotion. The guy was at the brink of death and the girl would confess. The guy would be the most toxic mafia leader and would change for her.

Then again, I was consuming Wattpad like it was crack and I was an addict.

Bottomline, I remember falling in love for the first time and not even recognizing it cause it had none of the drama or toxicity I had read about.

Like wdym there’s no danger or toxicity, but I think about this guy all the time?

I remember going online and reading all these tests and shit. ‘How do you know you’re in love?’

I was genuinely confused cause I wasn’t even with this boy (omo the story between me and this boy long sha, but he’s abroad now and we’re good friends)

The second time I fell in love was even more silent.

You know when people talk about gentle love?

That’s exactly what this was. Like I legit just slid into it. I didn’t understand. Wattpad promised me angst and high stakes while falling in love, what is this? (I really shouldn’t have been reading so many mafia and badboy romances at such a young age)

The books I read now show a more realistic view on falling in love, the gentle slide into that territory where you realize, ‘Oh shit, I want to spend the rest of my life with this person’

They’re cute. I love them.

(I’ve gotten this out of me, now I don’t know what to do with the remaining space now)

Okay. It’s valentine’s day.

We’ve gotten the expected flowers, money bouquet, chocolates and gifts. The only thing remaining is the baby, but we'll see them in November.

If you read this and you fornicated, shame on you.

If you read this and you received nothing, text me, let me send you biscuit money. You deserve love too.

I feel like if I say anything more, my stupidity will show (as this wasn’t really a planned post)

A good yappaholic knows when to shut up. And then feel embarrassed that they opened their mouth at all.

But before I go, let me bless you with the song that has been playing in my head all day.

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PS. I’m home cause my man (aka second love) and I are celebrating Valentine’s tomorrow.

Let the man rest from work (wink wink)