Dear Kwesi,
It has been two years since you left me. Don’t worry, my heart is completely healed now. Even the scars have faded. The day you left me, I was convinced that I would carry that pain for as long as I live. I didn’t know that I was strong enough to put the pieces of my broken heart together and breathe wholeness into them. I was certain that you took everything good in me, and that I would never be good enough for anyone else. But today I write to tell you that I am good. I am enough. And this letter is how I bury you in my past forever.
The first time we met at a work event, you were so eager to take my number. When I gave it to you, you said “Thank you. I will call this evening.” I remember how I constantly checked my phone expecting your call but it never came. I should have taken a cue from that. I know that if I had, our story would have ended there and then. I wouldn’t have warmed up to you when I met you at a workshop a few months later. I think back on how you apologized for not calling me. You spent the entire week of the workshop doting on me and making me feel special. How could I not have been swept up in your charms?
It happened that just around that time I was going through a difficult time at church. My life was filled with threats from unknown people and I thought I would lose my mind. But there you were, a strong arm holding me in place. Smiles that anchored my heart. The calm voice that chased away my fears. You came to me when I needed someone. Maybe that’s why I latched on to you the way I did. You were my lifeline Kwesi. And you sealed the deal with the “God sent me to you” line. Do you remember it? You told me; “I had a dream about you. In the dream, God told me that you are destined to be my wife.”
At first, I didn’t believe you. I laughed and said, “Nobody believes that line anymore. Up your game, if you are trying to get my attention.” You smiled and said, “Oh this one is real. I even dreamt that you applied to go to the university. By the way, you gained admission.” That was the part that got me. I had applied for school and not told anyone. Not even my family. So when you said you saw that in a dream too, I believed the marriage part could be true. I accepted you as my future husband. I gave you my all. I remember the first time I gave my body to you. That was when you changed.
I kept wondering, “Why has Kwesi changed toward me all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong? Is it his work? Yes, that’s it. His work must be taking a toll on him.” I even spoke to your best friend Alex about my concerns. He said, “I can tell how much you care about Kwesi so I’ll tell you a secret about him.” “What is it?” I asked. “Kwesi is mental.” That’s how he worded it. I was confused, “What do you mean he is mental? “ “What I mean is, he is crazy.” He explained. I told him, “How is that a secret? Everyone is crazy. I have been described as crazy too.” At that point, Alex said, “Okay it looks like I’m going to have to spell it out. He is a mad man. Sometimes he gets hospitalized when things get out of hand. So don’t expect him to act normal all the time.”
After my conversation with Alex, I was confused. You seemed normal to me. I studied you carefully but I didn’t see any trace of madness. So I didn’t take him seriously. I even asked you to meet my parents. Every time the topic came up, you dismissed it. I figured you would meet them if you felt ready so I didn’t push it. Then came that time when I couldn’t reach you. My instincts were haywire. I felt something was terribly wrong. I asked about you from everyone we both knew until they told me you were in the mental hospital. You had a really bad episode, and they had to commit you. I travelled from Winneba to Pantang to visit you every weekend. That’s how much I loved you. Do you think it was easy for me to see you in that state? It broke my heart every time.
READ ALSO: When The Secret Finally Came Out, There Was Nothing We Could Do To Save Our Marriage
“I hate you. I can’t stand the sight of you.” Those were the words you told me after you got better. I was hurt but I tried to move on with my life. Then you came crawling back, begging me to take you back. And I did because I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. After I took you back, you started womanizing. I didn’t know if it was a side effect of your mental illness or if it was just who you were. I remember the number of times I came to meet girls in your room. I should have saved my dignity and walked away but I didn’t. I felt sorry for myself knowing how far I’d go to be with you. One day I was in your room when you showed up with a girl. You had taken her shopping. Meanwhile you never even bought me a safety pin. You even owed me money from all the shirts I sewed for you.
That was the day it dawned on me that I was in the relationship alone. I took the last shirt I sewed for you, and walked away. Kwesi, you called me that evening saying; “You took back the shirt you sewed for me. And you didn’t greet my visitor when you saw her. You embarrassed me by doing that so I’m breaking up with you. This time I mean it.”
At that moment I regretted not heeding the advice of Alex and your other friends. They warned me several times, “We love Kwesi but he is not the kind of man you should give your heart to. Please stop wasting your efforts on him. It will not end well for you. We’ve seen it before.” I thought I was different. After all, God himself told you in a dream that I’m your wife. So I never listened to your friends. The day you broke up with me, I took all my regret and heartbreak and invested it into getting better.
Do you know your mother still calls me to ask of you? I suppose you didn’t tell her that we’ve not been together for the past two years. I won’t be the one to tell her either. It’s your problem. Recovering from you was a difficult journey. And I’m proud of the woman I have become at the end of it. I don’t hate you but we will never be friends again. Goodbye Kwesi.
Sincerely,
Koshie.
Do you have any relationship experience to share? Email it to [email protected]
NOTE: NO PART OF THIS CONTENT CAN BE REPUBLISHED OR REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT THE EXPLICIT CONSENT OF THE EDITORS OF THIS BLOG
#SB
