Sometimes I sit on the edge of my bed with my head in my palms and I ask myself, how did I get here? How did loving someone sincerely turn into something painful? How do you love somebody with your full chest, only for him to say he wants someone he can “build from scratch with,” like I’m a completed house nobody wants?

Let me start from the beginning.

I met Elvis last year, on a random Tuesday afternoon at a business seminar at Alisa. I wasn’t even supposed to attend, but something told me to show up. I was in high spirits, and I thought a little networking wouldn’t hurt.

He saw the empty chair next to me and asked if he could sit there. He wore this infectious smile while saying, “Hello, can I sit here?” I looked up, smiled back, and that was it. Fate had done its part.

Elvis wasn’t flashy. That was the first thing I liked about him. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was just calm, with warm eyes and even a little shy.

When we exchanged numbers, I wasn’t expecting anything. But that night he called. We talked for almost three hours. We talked about life, struggles, dreams, disappointments, our childhoods, and what have you. Something about him felt safe. Familiar. Like someone I’d known before in another life.

Over the months, we became inseparable. We laughed easily. We shared meals, secrets, fears. I believed him when he called me his peace of mind. I actually believed everything about him.

I’m the type who has worked for everything I have. Nothing was handed to me. I left home when I was only twenty years old. I worked as a nanny, a sales girl, a front desk receptionist. I worked and saved to be able to go back to school. By the time I completed school, I knew how to start my own business. I built my business from scratch, with sweat, tears, mistakes, failures, and rising again. So yes, I don’t have it all, but I know how to get what I want and the extent to which I’ll go to get it. So whenever Elvis needed help, I didn’t mind supporting him. Isn’t that what partners do?

Sometimes he needed money to sort his life out. I helped.
Sometimes he needed money when his job wasn’t paying him quickly enough. I helped.
Sometimes he needed a little top-up for something small. I helped.

It didn’t bother me. I was happy to do it because he made me feel safe. I never felt used. Not for a second.

It started with small changes. Calls became shorter. Texts were delayed. He seemed distant. Whenever he was with me, he felt distracted. Withdrawn, actually. I thought maybe it was about his job. I tried to be supportive.

“Babe, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He’d shake his head and say, “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t fine. I just didn’t know the real reason. Then one evening, after two days of him acting strangely, he said he wanted to see me. He came over, sat at the edge of my bed like a stranger, eyes shifting, fingers tapping his knee. My heart knew something was coming and that thing wasn’t a good thing.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began. “I think…I think we need to end this.”

“End what?” I whispered, praying he was joking.

“Us,” he said quietly.

“Elvis, why? What happened? What did I do?”

He said I didn’t do anything, but his spirit wasn’t at peace with me and about everything that was happening. I frowned. “What does that mean?” He exhaled sharply, like he had been holding the words in for months. “You have everything figured out,” he said. “Your business, your home, your life. You’re established. You’re stable. You don’t need me for anything. But that’s not what I want from a wife. I need to be with someone I can grow with. Someone I can build from scratch with. Someone who’s on my level.”

It was like someone had stabbed me in the chest. “So because I’m successful, you’re leaving me?”
“Not only that. I wish I could explain it in a way you would understand.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake him. I wanted to ask him if he remembered the nights I stayed up listening to his worries, the days I encouraged him, the money I gave him, the love I poured into him. How can someone prefer “building from scratch” with a new woman instead of growing with the woman who already loves him?

I tried everything. I begged. I cried. I held his hands and told him I would be whatever he needed. If he wanted more respect, I’d give it. If he wanted more space, I’d give it. Yes, I know how pathetic it sounds. I was begging a man not to leave me. But that’s what love does. It will humble you in ways pride can’t stop.

That was it. It took only a few minutes of conversation to end a one-year love story, but I respected him for that. Some men won’t tell you they are out of love, and they won’t also leave you alone. They’ll stay and put your heart on fire until you decide to run away. Elvis didn’t do that, and that left a little window of hope that someday he would come back.

Now I lie awake at night replaying everything and wondering if I did too much. Wondering if I should’ve pretended to be less. Wondering if being a stable woman scares Ghanaian men away. What do I even have? Or should I have been that girl who asked for GHC200 urgently?

Does Marriage Benefit Men More Than Women?

I’m confused. Some days I’m angry. Some nights I’m ashamed. I put men away to build myself. I said no to a lot of proposals because it felt like a distraction to my dreams. Now, at thirty-three, I’m ready, but they are also saying no to me. Elvis is not the only one, but he’s the one whose cut goes deeper.  The annoying thing is some nights a tiny part of me hopes he’ll come back. It’s been a couple of months, but the pain won’t heal because love, no matter how strong you are, can turn even the toughest woman into someone desperate for one more chance.

—Abena

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