how to sync and love in 3 moons.

These hours flew past, Navi.

At first, it was finding out our middle names are the same, repeat sleepovers sprinkled with arguments about feminism, where to buy food and music from the 2000s.


Hey, how did the test go?

I made Jollof Rice, figured you’d want food.

Debs, I wrote you a poem, want to listen?

You have a beautiful smile, yunnoe.

Oh, me? I dey sharp, I dey sharp.

What do you think about this logo?

Girl, you crazy.

Lemme show you something.

Humble yasehf make God see you bless o.

I am excited for you!

Hey, I’m here. I’m here, Debbie.

What do you want to eat?

Can’t believe you have the same name as me. If we were in a room and someone called, “Rukkie!”, we’d both answer lol.

What are you working on, babe?

You had so much to say to me, I started to fear I’d run out of words to say to you.

But, here we are,

Eating spaghetti at midnight

Looking for what to watch on Netflix at midday

Making Spotify playlists for sleep, work and that mood where we do nothing but talk about everything and nothing

Saying/texting the same things at once and laughing at horrible inside jokes

Arguing about the history of sexuality at 3 am, because no, we’re not sleepy

Me pretending to be angry because you never let me do chores but secretly happy because you know how much I hate them

You showing up at my door at 5 pm, tired from travelling from another state, because I said I felt alone 3 hours ago

Me sneaking an extra pack of salty snacks into the trolley when you’re not looking

Us making frequency resume and career changes because we want this better life, and we’re giving it our best shot

Having multiple pillows and still sharing one, snoring softly, head to chest

You holding my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze when the world is too much for me to take on

Me running my hand through your hair, while you write posts about interaction design and being a better human

It’s been 126,600 minutes, Navi, but I’d love an eternity more.


  1. Words, they fail me. And these liquids that filled my eyes, falling freely with joy.
    I guess it’s this Chinese man cutting this large onion beside me.
    Debbie, I love you.
    Forever isn’t even time enough.


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