Dear Patrick,
It seems like just yesterday. It was 24th December when I met you. I met you through a friend who was bent on matchmaking. It did look funny but I liked the idea. Before then, I had been seeing you anytime I passed by the said friend’s office. After being pushed to talk to me, you came over. You said “Hi”, and I responded with a hi. You took my number and asked to meet the next day.
You weren’t my first love. You were actually my second but it felt like the first love I love never had. You made it easier. The love between us was so good we didn’t want to be apart from each other. We were always together—always around each other. The good days came and we rejoiced in them. The few bad days that came our way, we dealt with them as lovers do. We stuck together and fought through the storm and won. We gossiped about total strangers, made fun of people and laughed at the hilarious stuff that came up when we were together. You were always patient with me even when I wanted to be right all the time. I was a spoilt child and I knew it but you didn’t let that come between us.
I never for once doubted your love. You always proved you were worthy of my trust and I knew you thought the same of me too. Then 3 years down the line you confessed your sins to me. We were only a year together when you started cheating on me with another woman. All through those years, you told me you loved me and would never think of another woman as far as I was with you. You told me about all the girls crushing on you and those you approached. You never mentioned that you had gotten another woman pregnant and the two of you were expecting a child together. You only confessed to me when you left the country.
Patrick, How was I supposed to scold you? How was I supposed to look you in the eyes and ask you the questions that were burning in my heart? I cried. I did everything to cry the frustration out. My friends and family got scared. The was always someone with me. They wouldn’t let me cross the street alone. They feared I might commit suicide. I had to see a psychologist. Your family tried assuring me that you didn’t love the girl and your dad will be taking care of the girl and your son. Apparently, everyone knew about the pregnancy except me.
Then gradually I got better. A year later, you returned. Of course, I still loved you so I took you back into my arms. I loved you but I couldn’t trust you anymore. You complained I wasn’t having time for you. Truth was, I was scared. I always had these nasty thoughts in my head. Then one day, a picture of a girl wearing your T-shirt appeared on your status. I asked you about it. You answered, “She’s just a friend who’s trying to keep me company since you are always busy with work.” I wasn’t stupid. I knew better but I was tired. Too tired to argue so I let it go. It happened again and again until one day, it was no longer a photo but a video of you two. You were kissing the same so-called friend. I passed. I didn’t comment.
Then Your best friend came asking me if I had watched your status. Apparently, he had also seen it and guessing you blocked me from viewing your status before posting. I told him I didn’t care. The next minute, you were in my DM. You didn’t come to apologize for kissing the girl. You didn’t apologize for hurting me over and over again. You only came to explain how the photo ended up on your status. “The girl did. I had no idea she was going to do it until I saw it up there,” you said. That day, I ended whatever we had. After 4 years 6 months, three weeks and some days, I decided to let go.
It got hurt again but I refused to break down this time because you didn’t deserve it anymore.
I tried to move on but I couldn’t trust anymore. Love looked like a losing game and men looked like scum to me. I wanted to prove that I was doing better. I felt wronged. You looked happy with the new girl. I wanted you to know I could be happier without you. I didn’t delete your number, I stalked your status, and allowed you to see mine.
Who was I kidding? I still cried myself to sleep every day. I couldn’t even explain my feelings anymore. It was a mixture of pains at places I didn’t know exist. Ultimately, I gave up on Love.
Again, you came back after some time. You put on the show of your life trying to get me to take you back. I looked at your sorry face and told you, “No, I won’t take you back but we could be friends.” You told me you regret everything you did. You said I was the best thing that ever happened to you. You compared your new girl to me and said I was the best. Days later, you posted the girl on your WhatsApp status and captioned it, “You are the best.” I was speechless. I didn’t comment. A few days later, you came complaining about how the girl wasn’t good for you and how you still wanted me.
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On Mother’s Day, you posted her along with some female friends. I didn’t appear in any of the statuses. You disappeared again. The next time you came, you wanted a loan. I was at the hospital, sick, so I couldn’t help this time. I asked you to get out of your comfort zone and search for any job you could get. You still couldn’t get a job after your return to the country for more than a year. I was always helping even after everything. I helped you when you got into that fight and needed money to buy drugs for the other party. I helped when you got into an accident with someone’s car and had to repair the car. You always promised to pay back but you never did. Instead, you took pleasure in rubbing your girl in my face.
I was stupid I know. It’s the reason I couldn’t say no to you.
Months later, I had a call from you. You called to say thank you. You said, “If you hadn’t mentioned it, I would still be looking for that one job I couldn’t get. Guess what, I got a job and I’m starting on Monday. Thank you.” You left that day and I never saw you again. You didn’t even try to call me like you used to. Then it dawned on me that I was just someone you loved coming back to because you didn’t have what you wanted. Truth is I still missed you. I missed what we had. I wished I could get some closure. I wanted to be happy but I didn’t know how.
I’m not writing this because I want you back. I’m only writing this because I’m ready to open up now. I’m ready to move on. I deleted your number and everything associated with you. I don’t regret meeting you. You taught me how to love unconditionally and I appreciate it. And I’m Grateful for the happy moments we shared.
—Christabel
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