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Dear Damilola,
I truly think you’re a nice person and a good friend, and I’m sad that we’ve grown apart over the last few years (I know you’ve noticed it too). I’ve been thinking a lot about why that is, and I can’t help but trace it back to when you started at KD.
With the late nights, the last-minute canceling of plans, and—when you do turn up—the eye constantly on the inbox, it became hard to reach you.
And once wedding planning began I didn’t stand a chance. Any spare moment you get from work feels like it’s focused on flowers, chairs, flooring. Do you really care about any of this? Because the Dami I knew was nonmaterialistic and it seems more like Phil’s big, splashy wedding than yours.
I just want the old Dami back. I don’t know who you are anymore and I miss you.
Love,
Becky
P.S. I had a dream that The Folder got roasted in Angie’s new wood-burning stove and I woke up really, really happy.