Although I was in love with him, I didn’t know if we were going to have a future together. If our love was a romance novel, it would be themed close proximity. We are one of those unlikely matches that formed because we were in the same training camp. You know, being away from home leaves one with an emptiness that yearns to be filled. I felt that emptiness as much as he did. I believe that is why we were drawn to each other like unlike poles of two magnets. Statically, relationships like ours usually do not survive outside the training camp.

When training is over, everyone gets posted to different stations. Those who are practical call their affairs quits. And the ones who insist on making it work eventually learn that something birthed out of close proximity rarely survives long distance. I am a realist so I managed my expectations. I did not expect Yaw and I to ride off into the sunset together. I believed we would have to break up at the end of our training. So I did not pour all of myself into him. I measured my love and gave him just the right dose for the circumstance. I thought I was in control of affairs until it came time for us to graduate and we were asked to choose our preferred region to work in.

Throughout our relationship, we have had conversations about where we would like to work. “I want to work In Accra,” he always said, “I spent my whole life there. All my family and friends are there. I am not a Ga, but I come from Accra. That place is my home. I won’t be happy anywhere else.” Unlike him, I don’t share in his love and obsession with Accra. I prefer the quiet life of small towns and villages to the busy and crowded city life. I made that very clear to him. “I can’t live in a place like Accra unless the choice is taken out of my hands. So I hope I am posted anywhere but a big city.” This is something I also often mentioned.

So when we were asked to choose our preferred region, Yaw asked me, “Where will you choose?” “Now that I have a say in the matter, I am choosing my home region. I know you will choose Accra. So I am wondering if we should have that conversation about our relationship now. I don’t want us to do long distance,” “I also don’t want us to do long distance,” he cut in before I could finish my point. “I love you,” he went on, “I love you more than I have loved anyone or anything. And I will rather throw myself into the sun than watch long distance tear us apart. So I will choose your home region as well. You are, after all, my home. I will go wherever you go.”

That very moment right there was the moment I handed over my heart to him completely. The fact that he was willing to follow me to my small town hometown instead of going to his big Accra life was the grandest romantic gesture anyone ever showed me. So I agreed that he come home with me. And we applied for the posting and got what we wanted. Things fell too easily in place if you ask me. I even got suspicious because I expected something to go wrong during the process, but nothing did. We were posted to the same station in my hometown. I share an apartment with my sister so I didn’t get a new place. Yaw was the one who had to find a place for himself.

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Occasionally, he spent the night with me when he came to visit. My sister didn’t mind so it wasn’t an issue. Then he started spending days at my end. He did this mostly on weekends. We would go to my place after work on Friday night and he would stay with me till Sunday evening. It was cute at first. And the way he was always attached to me excited me. It was nice to be with someone who makes it clear that he cannot function properly without my presence. But then, my man stopped going home when he stays at my end. He only went home quickly to bring a few of his clothes. I wasn’t sure what was going on with him until one day he went home and brought his small suitcase.

I gathered all the casualness I could find, and asked; “What’s up with the suitcase? Are you travelling?” He laughed, “No, I am not. I have decided that instead of going to my place all the time to bring in my stuff, I will just keep a few of them here. Is that okay with you?” Honestly, if he had asked me before going for the luggage, I would have said no. But looking at him standing there with all the hope in his eyes melted my resolve. I couldn’t bring myself to crush his expectations and send him back with his luggage. So instead of saying no, I said, “Yes, it’s fine.” Now that he is living with me, I am uncomfortable about it. My sister hasn’t complained, and Yaw contributes financially to our home. However, it doesn’t feel right to have my boyfriend living with me and my sister. It just unsettles me.

The annoying part about this whole arrangement is that he is quick-tempered. And his habit of hovering over me which I found cute, has now become the bane of my existence. He has been here for three months but he is everywhere in my space. I can’t breathe without breathing in his cologne. I can’t receive a phone call without hearing him ask, “Who were you talking to? What did they want? Why did you spend a total of ten minutes talking to them?” The only time I am free of him is during work hours. Apart from that, I don’t belong to myself. If he tries to touch me and I tell him no, he would get angry and shout, “I chose this small town over my home in Accra because of you, and now you won’t let me touch you?” He always wields that thing over me like a weapon. “I moved all the way here for you, so why are you texting on your phone instead of sitting on my lap and cuddling with me?”

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If it is possible to throw up from so much physical contact, I would throw up every time he touches me. When I deny him shuperu, he gets angry. Sometimes he even hits me when he loses his temper. So, now I walk on eggshells around him. I am always trying to behave in a way that will not provoke him to hit me. I never for once in my life imagined myself as a victim of domestic violence, but here I am, terrified into silence.

We are both security officers so we know the law. He will get into trouble if I report him to the authorities. But I don’t want to attract unnecessary attention to myself. All I want is for him to leave, so I can have my life back. I have hinted at him leaving a few times but he tells me he didn’t move to a small town for me to live apart from him. I don’t know how to force the issue without him feeling betrayed that I am choosing myself over him. Please how do I go about this without aggravating him? How do I put an end to his ownership of me?

–Cynthia

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