Two years ago, my wife left me, and my life hasn’t been the same again. It started when we had a baby. Before my wife finally delivered, she starved me of intimacy for over three months. She pushed me away anytime I tried to be intimate. Because of me, she even slept in the hall a lot of the time.

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

She said she was tired, not in the mood, and also felt heavy. So for three months before delivery, nothing happened between us. After delivery, naturally, you wait until she’s completely healed. I didn’t know how long I was going to wait, but I knew I was struggling emotionally and needed somewhere I could pour out what was bottled up inside me.

A female family member of hers came to live with us because her mom couldn’t come to help her. This lady was almost my wife’s age. She said they were cousins, but I knew they weren’t. Their family relationship was very distant, but because they had lived and grown up together, they called each other cousins.

I started noticing this lady. Soon, I was looking at her sexually, but I didn’t think I was going to follow through with my intentions. One afternoon, it happened. It was consensual. From there, we kept seeing each other whenever we had the chance. We were mature about it. We played it safe until one day, my wife caught us.

She saw me coming from her room and quickly went to check on her. She found her naked and immediately knew what had happened. It turned into a big fight. Less than a week later, the lady was gone. My wife sent her away, called the lady’s mother, and told her what had happened. I begged her to keep it between us so we could resolve it without the whole world knowing. But before I could blink twice, her family knew about it, and my family did too.

She would call and narrate the story to them in tears, even in my presence. My mom came home to talk to her and preached forgiveness. After involving the family, she took me to church to tell the pastor. We went through one month of counseling. I was happy about one thing. Through it all, even when she was so angry she was shaking, she never mentioned divorce. It gave me hope that we could work through our problems.

We were together when our son crawled. We were still together when he learned to walk, and we clapped with joy. All was not well, but we could laugh together sometimes and make plans for tomorrow. Healing was slowly finding its way into our home, and it felt good. We weren’t intimate often, but the few times it happened, it was great.

It had been over a year since the incident. My wife woke up one day and said she didn’t want to be married anymore. It sounded like a joke. Our life had been stable and peaceful over the year. Yes, we had scars from the past, but we could look at them and move on. So what changed?

My wife said she couldn’t heal. She had tried to let go, but the images of what she saw kept coming back. Also, in their hometown, it had become a constant topic of gossip. She would go back home, and everyone would talk about it. They pointed fingers at her and said, “This is the woman who sent her cousin away and stayed with the husband who cheated.”

I begged her not to go that way. I reminded her of how good we’d been and how the future would be brighter with our son beside us. She shook her head. She said it had taken her over a year to reach that conclusion, and there was no way she was going to change her mind. This time, nobody’s words got to her. Even while I was trying to change her mind, she had already started packing.

I said, “No, you can’t leave with my son.”

I expected her to fight so I could use that opportunity to remind her to stay. Instead, she lifted our boy, placed him on my chest, and said, “You can keep him. I won’t steal what’s also yours from you.”

There was no way out for me. She packed up and left without our son. I was broken. I didn’t know where to start. I could stay in bed all night thinking about how I had allowed that to happen, how I had broken my marriage apart with my own bare hands.

But that wasn’t my only problem.

The day my wife left, my penis never became erect again. It’s been two years, and all I do with it is urinate and keep it in my trousers like a photo hanging on a wall.

At first, I thought it was because of the emotions I was going through. Even when I tried being with two other women and it didn’t work, I thought it was because I hadn’t healed emotionally. But two years without any power in my machine makes me think my ex-wife has a hand in it. If not, then why did it stop working the very day she walked out of the door?

Did she stay with me for an extra year so she could carry out this plan of destroying my manhood? What did she give me during those months? To me, she was intimate with me sometimes only to see if it still worked, not because she wanted to be with me. I’ve visited hospitals and taken herbal medicine, but still, my situation remains hopeless.

I haven’t called her. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction if that was her aim—to render me useless because of what I did. Everything in me tells me she’s responsible. She might have used juju or some slow-acting medicine to do this to me.

I Called My Girlfriend And Another Man Answered The Phone

I haven’t given up on myself yet. I’ll keep trying until this dead bone rises again. But if she indeed did this to me, I pray she never wrongs anyone because she wouldn’t be in a position to ask for forgiveness.

I repented. I haven’t looked at another woman the same way again since the incident. I deserve better than this. But like I said, I will get it back, start my life again, and hopefully, get it right this time.

—Marfo

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.

******