Slumping on the sofa with a cuppa in hand, I prepared myself for another night in front of the TV.
I couldn't help but sigh. I'd recently split up with my partner of 16 years and I was finding the long evenings hard to cope with.
"Why don't you join Facebook?" my son, Malcolm, suggested the next time I saw him.
"Me on Facebook?" I chuckled.
"It means we can stay in touch more often," he explained, setting up for me on my laptop and showing me how to send messages. "You won't feel so lonely."
I agreed to give it a go.
I soon got the hang of it. A few months later, I was surprised to receive a friend request from a man I didn't know.
His name was CJ - and he was gorgeous!
I accepted the request and moments later, a message appeared.
I love your profile picture, it read. You're so beautiful.
My eyes widened in surprise. Thank you, but I'm 70, I replied. You must be mistaken.
But CJ responded and said that age didn't matter to him.
He seemed like a nice lad, and we got chatting. I told him about my three grown-up sons and how I adored my six grandchildren.
He told me that most of his family had moved from where he lived in Nigeria to America. Suddenly I realised that like me, CJ was lonely.
Even though he was only 25, CJ was so easy to talk to. Soon we were chatting every day.
As the weeks went by, I began to develop feelings for him.
At first I told myself not to be silly. CJ was 45 years younger than me and six years younger than my youngest grandchild. Not to mention the fact that he lived 5000km away!
There was no way I should be falling for him. And yet the chemistry between us was sizzling!
Soon we moved from messaging to chatting on the phone. Then one day, CJ asked me if I wanted to Skype.
Oh no, I thought, my heart sinking. Once he sees me, that will be that.
But I needn't have worried. CJ wasn't at all bothered about my wrinkles and saggy bits - and I certainly didn't mind looking at his muscular frame. He was even better looking than in his pictures and I could no longer hide how I felt.
"Angela, I must tell you something," CJ said. "I have feelings for you."
A surge of joy rushed through me as I told him I felt the same. "I'm not sure how my sons are going to feel about it, though," I said.
When I next saw Malcolm, I told him about CJ.
"He's 25 and lives in Nigeria," I said.
"Oh Mum, please don't do this," Malcolm groaned.
He told me he'd heard many horrible stories about older women being scammed by younger men abroad.
At 47, my son was years older than my boyfriend so I could understand his point.
But when I explained how serious I was about him, Malcolm relented.
"Let me check him out," he said.
He found nothing suspicious.
"He appears squeaky clean mum," he said. "So as long as you're happy, I'm happy."
Relief washed over me. My other sons Phillip, 50, and Maurice, 43, gave me their blessing too.
A few days later I sat down in front of my computer ready to tell CJ the good news.
But before I had the chance to speak, he blurted out: "Will you marry me?"
I was so taken aback, I lost the power of speech.
"I'm serious," CJ said, as I gaped at the screen. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
I knew it was a crazy idea - we'd never even met! But somehow, it just felt right.
"Of course I'll marry you," I cried.
I started planning my trip to Nigeria.
I bought a beautiful blue dress to wear on our wedding day and CJ organised the ceremony and bought the rings.
A week later as I boarded the plane, brimming with excitement. But after we landed and I walked through arrivals, I began to feel nervous.
What if I was making a terrible mistake?
Suddenly, there was CJ.
"My sweetheart," he beamed, giving me a kiss and a cuddle. "You've come to marry me."
Just like that, my nerves vanished.
CJ took me to my hotel and although we'd planned to wait until our wedding night to consummate our marriage, we couldn't wait. We slept together for the first time, and it was magical.
The next morning CJ's family welcomed me and four days after I'd arrived, a put on my blue dress and made my way to the wedding venue.
"You look like a princess," CJ said when he saw me. And he was going to be my prince! Soon, we were husband and wife and it was the happiest day of my life.
Sadly, my time in Nigeria was limited and soon it was time to say goodbye.
I clung to CJ as we both cried.
"Don't worry, you'll see me again soon," he said.
Back at home, I started the process of applying for a visa for CJ.
I missed him so much already, I knew there was no time to waste in getting my husband over to the UK.
To my surprise, his visa was denied.
They believed that CJ only married me to come over to the UK, but I knew that wasn't true.
I'd never sent him money and couldn't believe that someone would think that our love wasn't genuine.
Over the next few months, I tried to appeal the decision but it broke my heart every time I was told that CJ was denied entry.
He wasn't even allowed to come for a holiday as they thought he wouldn't leave the country.
I'd waited so long for true love and now that I had found it, it was being kept from me.
Over the next two years, I visited CJ twice in Nigeria and each time fell more in love with him.
It was always so heartbreaking to leave him knowing that I wouldn't see him again for so long.
But I was determined to fight to see my man.
I hired lawyers, but again and again, his visa was denied.
Me and CJ spent a combined amount of $40,000 trying to be reunited in the UK, but no one would listen and we were continually told that he wasn't allowed into the country.
Our final hope is that CJ will be allowed to come over next year to study for his master's degree.
I know people will doubt our love is real. I'm 72 and my husband is 27. But we love each other and that's all that matters.
We won't stop fighting until we can be together as husband and wife.