Before Arthur, there was Peter. There was Bright and I think Harris too. I dated these three guys, each of them for more than a year. They were lovely at first. They came with promises. Because of them, I’ve learned not to take the promises men make at the beginning of relationships seriously. New relationships spark dreams in men and these dreams push them to make promises they can’t keep.

Peter promised to love me forever because I was the only girl he had loved truly. I believed him because his eyes dilated and melted in happiness as he spoke to me that day. I was watching him, looking at how he was going to fulfil that promise. I was twenty-three. He was twenty-seven. I surrendered myself to him so he could love me the way he thought was right. He asked for sex and I said I didn’t have it. “How can you not have sex? That thing between your thighs, what its use?” “It’s for my husband,” I responded. “And you Peter are not my husband. When we marry, I’ll keep sex beside the bed for you so you can have it whenever you want.”

For a year, he tried to make me open up for him, but each time he touched me, I closed up like the way Mimosa pudica closes its leaves when touched. I learned how to tighten up my thighs because of Peter. He grew aggressive so I grew strength in my thighs. He promised forever but when sex wasn’t on the table, he left and never looked back. I called to ask about the future he promised and he told me, “We can be friends. If I keep being in love with you, one day it might turn to rape. I don’t want to get there.”

Bright took over. He found my beauty alluring. He made his own promises the day I accepted his proposal. I told him, “I don’t have sex so don’t ask for it until we are married.” The smile on his face vanished. He went quiet as if to say, “Damm it, I’ve made a mistake.” When I asked why the silence, he asked if I was serious. I said, “I’m serious. Sex is what you give to a husband and I know you’ll marry me in the end so let’s wait.”

Nothing showed he was ready to wait but I loved being in love so I gave him chances. I loved to have a boyfriend so even when the boyfriend wasn’t good for me, I kept him, hoping he’ll change along the line and become the man I wanted him to be. Bright didn’t change. He left me. When he left Harris took his place a year later. I wanted to give Harris a chance at sex but he was so into the idea of having me in his bed that it scared me. When I couldn’t give, he found a reason to leave.

I was twenty-eight and lonely. My dream of having a beautiful wedding at twenty-six had died. I postponed that dream to when I turned twenty-eight. I was already twenty-eight and nothing was happening for me. A lot of men approached, including married men who promised to turn my night into day. I said “No, I like my night like that. It gives me the opportunity to sleep and dream of a better day.”

I had Arthur When I was twenty-nine. A well-packaged man who mentioned my name with a little bit of slur that made my name sound different than what my parents gave me. I loved Arthur. I was desperate to make it work. I didn’t give him rules. I was scared rules would push him away. I only told him to take it slowly with me. “When the time is right and I’m in the right frame of mind, I’ll do it with you. Don’t force it, dear Arthur.”

READ ALSO: I Caught Him Doing It With Our Dead Friend’s Girlfriend

Six months later, I found myself in his bed. I was ready. It was a lie I told myself because I felt I was losing him. He spread me wide and started digging. I was watching him. He was struggling. I was in pain. He stopped and asked, “Are you a virgin?” I looked at him with affirmative eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He yelled feebly. I turned away. He started dressing up, looking beaten and disappointed. I asked if everything was alright and he said, “I don’t know. It was becoming too painful so I had to stop.”

We tried again some other time. It didn’t go in. When it became too painful he stopped. He wanted it badly but didn’t want to hurt me. Each time he failed, I was grateful. Grateful that I could maintain my physical status as a virgin but in my mind, I wasn’t. I couldn’t claim purity again because I’d done things.

He started cheating. The first time when I caught him was very terrible for me emotionally. But when it happened again and again, I started making excuses for him. It was the only thing that made sense, excuses. So I had a lot for him each time he cheated. “He’s not getting it from me, that’s why he’s getting it outside but I’m the one he loves. He’s just sleeping with those girls. When he finally gets it from me, he’ll stop cheating.”

There was one constant. A girl who came up each time he cheated, Cynthia. I caught him three times with different ladies. Those ladies left the scene but Cynthia kept coming each time we fought about cheating. He would crawl on his knees and say sorry but months later, I’ll catch him with Cynthia again. He turned me into a CID, investigating his movement, his relationships with other people, the way he coughs and how long he stays in the toilet.

I threatened to break up with him. He begged. I broke up with him. He came begging. I wanted to stretch him to his limit so he’d know what he was missing. That aside, I wanted to see repentance in him. Genuine repentance before I said yes. For a month, I kept saying no to him, making him work harder for my forgiveness. He stopped coming. He stopped calling and his texts to me dwindled. We were hanging in there, like friends do when friendship becomes hard to keep. Once in a while, he would call and we’d talk. He’ll ask when I’m going to forgive him.

One day I saw his wedding invitation on one of his friends’ status. He was getting married to Cynthia. He was making plans for a wedding while I was there dreaming of repentance. I was about to ask his friend a question when I realized he had pulled down the wedding invitation. I called him. I wanted to be sure before I give my heart the permission to break. He didn’t pick up my calls. I called Arthur. He didn’t pick. I texted, “You said we were friends so why am I not invited to your wedding?”

I got the blue tick but not a reply. I went to his place with questions. His door was locked. I sat there waiting for him. I didn’t want to go home and come back later. Two hours later, when he wasn’t coming, I got up to leave. When I got to the main gate, I saw him coming with the friend on whose status I saw the invitation. They stopped and watched while I walked towards them. I didn’t even know what I was going to say. When I got closer, he said, “You said you’ve left me. I didn’t have a choice.”

I nodded and continued going. He was calling my name. I didn’t look back. He texted and called all day. When I texted back I said, “Yes, I left you. You don’t owe me any explanation.”

I Told Him To Go Ahead And Do It

They are married and I’m here nursing my broken heart, as if I’m cursed not to find love because of it. He cheated on me and it hurt but I didn’t know seeing him marry will cause me this much pain. It feels like I was close until I let go. If I didn’t leave, how was he going to have the time to plan a wedding? Or he was waiting for a chance and I gave it to him unknowingly?

Anyway, I’m back to square one, where I’m alone again and thinking of what next to do. I have nothing to do with love now until further notice. This heart is closed for reconstruction. It might love again or love not to love again.

—Albe

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.