Dear Q,
What is a queen without her king?

When we first started dating, I was confused. You were so quirky. I wasn’t quite sure if you were a consonant or a number. I honestly didn’t know whether to quietly pursue or withdraw. Once Cursive died in 2010, I knew I’d follow you for the rest of my days.

I have a confession to make. I’ve noticed your girlfriend, C, has some cute curves. Don’t worry. I adore your completeness and cross-stroke. She knows the two of us are almost always together. You are my quintessential jam on toast.

I also want to reassure you that when I run into O, we just hang out and talk. There is nothing between us. I abhor taking the leadership role in a relationship. I’m perfectly happy walking in your shadow with one exception. My little brother, N, unfortunately, follows me around like a unicorn.

Remember the time in Qatar when you were wearing a burqa? I caught you eating qabab, drinking qat and playing a qanon with Faqir. I certainly hope that is the last time you decide to go clubbing alone.

I forgot to tell you about what happened at the coffee shop last week. I gave my order for a double shot latte. The barista called out “Hey you, orders ready!” Well to my surprise another guy walked up to the counter and tried to take my cup. The nerve of him! We didn’t even look the same. I gave him the stink eye.

I’ll see you later. Cullen want me to go for a run. I’m sure he’ll be leading all the way.
Unequivocally yours,

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