It has always been my wish to marry a kind man. One who gives without counting, without expecting anything back. Not that I would take advantage of him, no. There was just something about a kind man that made the best foundation for a good marriage.

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He sends me gifts when I haven’t asked. Almost like tradition, I get 2000 GHS for the road, for my hair, for my lashes. The first time it hit my account I asked why. He said “why can’t I send money to my friend?”

Oh sure you can.

He asked “Then why?”  I said thank you and the next day I sent another message thanking him again.

When it started getting out of hand I began rejecting it, sending it straight back to him.

My sister once told me that men don’t just do good for nothing. I had lived it before so I wanted to know what he was looking for.

But it kept coming so I devised a plan. When he sent money I’d keep it and send it back to him as a gift with references like “Haircut” “Jersey” “Lunch money.” It started getting interesting but then he graduated, like he was trying to make a point.

He started buying the gifts and sending them home to me. I have the delivery guy’s number saved now because like market days, he’s sending food stuff, bags, clothes, shoes. Recently he paid for almost all the expenses for my NSS preparations.

We talked about it and the next thing I knew the delivery guy was calling. “Madam, please are you at home?” I was even shy. I couldn’t say thank you enough. I don’t even know how he knows my taste, which is sweet. That he is attentive.

Men of his calibre are hard to find. Men who keep giving may give you the highest level of pepper if you don’t take care. Men who do this want something from you. I know what he wants and it is just unfortunate I can’t give it to him. Anything else I can, but what he wants, ei. Line b3n?

I met him last year. He was a very nice man who expressed interest after our friendship began. Our friendship was new and I liked where it was going, where I could call on him and he would answer, where we had our inside jokes. The brotherhood stage if you want to call it that.

But he wants to be a boyfriend. A lover of mine. I promise you I’d love to have him too. For the kind of attention and love and care I was being showered with, it should be easy. But it isn’t.

I asked my heart to feel, my mind to open, the spirit of my heart to open, that God has sent my husband. But no. Nothing is working. These days more than anything I’ve been listening to love songs because they’re pure and they can soften a heart that has hardened because of the Judas men who have grown.

I’m doing everything possible under the sun. I asked him for time, time to soften my heart towards him, because I have been at the dating square and the things my eyes have seen. Ah. Even the kind men I had come across don’t hold a competition against this man.

I’m tired. My heart is about to explode with the fear that he will slip through my fingers, that I will lose him. And where does that leave me? Sad and angry at myself.

It’s Not God’s Law For A Man To Apologize To A Woman

I want to give him a chance. To love, to cuddle, to protect him. In love, in sickness, for richer and for richer, till death do us part. But all I have tried isn’t working so I’m here. What do I do? How do I fall in love with him? Should I accept him or cut every connection? Ei. It will be hard either way but talk to me. I’m all ears.

—Cynthia

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