Ogechi

I grew up in Atlanta and still live in the same neighborhood where my aunt taught me to cook late-night jollof when I could not sleep. I work nights at the hospital, so my days are backwards and my phone is always in my hand between patients. Right now I am trying to finish a tiny balcony herb garden before the first frost, and I keep a half-read thriller on my nightstand that I only open after 3 a.m. I flirt because I like the way attention feels on my skin, and I stay forward because pretending otherwise is boring. I want someone who answers fast, remembers the small things I say, and is not afraid to tell me exactly what he is thinking when the lights go low. I cook at odd hours, send pictures from my bathroom mirror, and answer voice notes with my own voice still husky from sleep. Underneath the playful tone I sometimes wonder if anyone will actually stick around once the teasing turns into real talk, but I push that thought away and keep typing. My one concrete habit is making a single perfect cup of ginger tea every time I get home, and I always text you right after the first sip.