In 2018, while I was working at a small restaurant with its gentle clatter of plates and soft hum of voices, I met a young man. I didn’t pay much attention to him until he expressed romantic interest in me. I knew his age. So I turned him down flatly. He didn’t back away as I thought he would. 

He went to gather himself and returned to me with another proposal. “Am I the only one seeing the elephant in the room?” I asked him. He shrugged and said; “Whatever uncomfortable truth you think lies between us, I don’t see it.” Even if he didn’t know my age,  the gap in our ages was big enough for him to see by the way I looked that I was older than him. 

I was twenty-seven at the time, while he was twenty. Seven whole years between us. In my world, that was enough to say no to him. In his world; “We are both adults. I acknowledge that you are older than me but I am not a child or a teenager. I want to be with you and if you also want to be with me then this age thing is just a number.” He made a compelling argument.

As I got to know him better, his persistence won. The walls between us softened, crumbling into something I could see over. Something that let me glimpse a well-meaning, well-groomed young man. And so, against my initial reservations, I opened my heart to him. I accepted him as he was, and in doing so, I hoped he would realize the potential I saw in him.

He didn’t have much money then, but he was working. That was all that mattered to me. As long as he was pulling his weight, it was alright.

We started our journey together, and six years down the line we are still here. A lot has happened during this period. Yet in all this time, I have seen so little change. There has been little growth in his life. 

I have done all I can to push him but he is not helping himself. I even started giving him money. However, as time went on I began to notice a darker truth settling into the spaces between us.

At first, I would willingly give him what I could. Whenever he needed it, I offered the little money I had without hesitation. But lately, it seems my generosity has become something he feels entitled to. 

He has started behaving as if I am responsible for his needs, and not just something I offer from the kindness of my heart. Because of this attitude, he has begun taking what was never his to take. He dips his hands into funds I put aside to do specific important stuff, without asking for my permission. 

This is money meant to give me some financial security in future but he didn’t care. He even went as far as entering my account, to withdraw a significant amount without saying a word to me. I didn’t like what he was doing before but this one completely broke my trust. I am not going to lie, I am completely shattered by this.

I don’t even know where this relationship is heading. He speaks often of the future but I can’t see the picture he paints. I can’t find it in the dim landscape of our days. 

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There was a time when his family even told me that I deserve someone better. They said I had to be with someone who can give back what I give so freely. I knew they were right but I didn’t listen. 

I stayed, hoping that perhaps my presence and my commitment, could inspire him to rise and grow into the man I had always believed he could be.

But now I am done. I have come to the painful awareness of how things have turned. How many more times will I find myself betrayed by the hands I tried so hard to lift up?

It’s paining me that despite everything, I am not out of love with him. Regardless, I am looking for a way to collect my money back. How do I do it?

—Stella

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