Letter from a Prisoner of Love

Dear Uche,

The days feel slower and harder to get through the busier you are. I’ve grown so accustomed to our daily conversations that I am going through withdrawals when your job starts sweating its asset—you! I hate seeing you worn down by something that doesn’t bring you joy, and it hurts to watch someone I care about suffer this way. Why won’t you resign? You’ve told me it’s draining you, even making you sick. I told you I would help. But I know your answer—you’re scared to be poor.

Well, I’m scared to be without you. So where does that leave us?

I’ve always admired your drive and ambition; it’s one of the things I love most about you. You’re building something for your future, and I respect that deeply. But still, I can’t deny that I want more of your attention, more of you.

You once told me we need to have other things in our lives besides each other, and I do. You know I do. But I still can’t stop thinking about you and talking to you. If that’s a crime, then put me in the prison of love.

Yours always,
Vicc