Dear Adeola-mi,

I remember that one (only) time I got a Val cake…with the most beautiful bi-syllabic appellation ever used on me, boldly written on it in red icing, put a knife through it and I found my reflection – chocolate – staring back at me. I marveled.

It was so beautiful, and yet so painful because I couldn’t revel in it as I would have loved. With every slice, I sobbed at my aching heart. Ate, smiled and cried at the same time. What I had always longed for came, not the cake, the love, but the clock had ticked past the hour.

Had it come a year earlier or so, perhaps, this heart would have relished every bit of it in sheer ecstasy. There’ll probably have been another cake every other year, even yesterday. Or not.

Maybe this heart would have been forever lit up, burning with the fiery passion it once was known for or perhaps, history would have prevailed against the present, bringing it to its knees, a return to status quo. Just maybe.

Those days are long gone now, but it was the most beautiful cake I’d ever seen. One that’s not to be forgotten soon. One that wasn’t without a scar. A night of sweet and sour. A night of pure bliss. A night of Love.

But those days are really gone.

Yes, those days are long gone.

These days are filled with you,
Filled with the beauty of you
Filled with the fragrance of you
Filled with all of you

That was one hell of a Valentine’s Day
One that’s never to be seen again

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