I got divorced after exactly two years of marriage. I didn’t see it coming, but it came and landed right at my doorstep. My husband got another woman pregnant just five months into the marriage. Five months. It was a long-distance marriage, and that, coupled with other things, eventually led to the divorce.

No one gets married wishing for it to come to an early end. So when it ended, it felt like a part of my life had been taken away. I looked left and saw chaos. I looked right and saw terror. What was I going to do?

I had this very good friend of mine, Jason. We had been friends since 2006 and have always been close. He was someone I shared a great bond with. I never struggled to love him, think about him, or do anything for him. Ask him about our bond and he will probably say the same thing.

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Our friendship was so great that when I was getting married years ago, he had an exam that same day but took a flight after the paper just to be there with me. The wedding and reception were already over, but he still came around to spend time with us and the family. Everyone in my family has heard of his name. Friends alike.

Life got busier after marriage, so our conversations became few and far between. Once in a while, we would have long conversations and then leave it there until many months later.

During this period, I called him. We reconnected. I was unable to tell him all the details leading up to the divorce, but I told him about them in bits and pieces until it was finally done.

We started dating in 2019, and I got pregnant in 2020. By then, he had relocated from Accra to Kumasi. He begged me to keep the pregnancy as a testament to our love so we could get married when the baby was born.

The pregnancy was one that I enjoyed so much, with every breath in me. He was at my beck and call. All I had to do was snap my fingers and he was there, fulfilling my every need. He was the sweetest person ever during the pregnancy. He would call every day, speak to me, even speak to the child. He would visit Accra frequently just to see me.

We were going to get married after the child was born. During the naming ceremony, we would have a small, intimate wedding. That was the plan. His plan, which slowly became our plan and then became my dream.

But the moment the child fell into my lap, he changed colours.

He started changing right after the baby was born. He began dragging his feet, even with the naming ceremony, because the plan was to have a small marriage ceremony together with the naming. The marriage never happened, and he became even more distant.

I later found out that he had found someone else in Kumasi and had even taken her home to meet his family. I confronted him and ended the relationship, but after about a year, we came back together.

Every time we got back together, I would reach a point where I felt we were finally in a good place to settle down. Then he would withdraw, and before I realised it, I was the only one still in the relationship. I would have no choice but to quietly move on.

Our last breakup was two years ago, and because we have a daughter together, we have no other choice than to be in constant communication. He will call alright, but with me, nothing. He just moved on and I was once again left to deal with my emotions all by myself with no clarity.

He has broken up with the woman he left me for, right after she just delivered their son. He has left her and is now back in my DMs, talking all sweet and honey. Apologising for the wrongdoings, and talking about wanting to start all over again with me.

Our daughter is five years old, and he is a great father but a terrible partner.

I want to move on. I don’t want any animosity between us because of our daughter. But as long as he is around, I can’t seem to stop loving him, and that breaks me. It drains me to think that my best friend would watch me go through all these things and actually do them to me, knowing everything I’ve been through.

Not being chosen by him is one of the most difficult realities I have had to accept. It makes me ask myself, if he doesn’t choose me, who will? Since he is not choosing me, was my ex husband right not to have chosen me? A lot of questions brooding in my mind.

I’ve cried so much in the past, but I haven’t cried since our last breakup. Until today.

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We are the same age. We will both be 40 next year. His family adores me, and mine loved him. I don’t know what his problem really is. Maybe he is afraid of commitment. We both work and independently take care of our businesses, so I really don’t know what the problem is.

Maybe the saying is true: “Aboa bi bɛka wo a, ɛfiri wo ntoma mu.” Sometimes, the people who hurt you the most are the ones closest to you.

— Charity

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