He abused me physically. Not once or twice. I stayed. I caught him cheating. Not once or twice. I stayed. Whenever he sensed a change in me that didn’t go in his favor, he accused my friends of feeding me venom. Slowly, he drove all my friends away. In my mind, he loved me so much he didn’t want to share me with anyone, so I stayed.

Two years later, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I decided to have one last conversation with him and ask for change. I went on and on about everything he’d ever done to me since we started dating. I told him how I loved him regardless and wanted the relationship to work. He asked me, “If I’m such an awful person, then why do you still love me?”

I mentioned the times when he was sweet—when he would come to my place with chocolate and say, “I know you’ll ask if I don’t bring it.” I reminded him of the times we went out just to roam, sitting behind the trotro and playing games with the mate, pretending we’d already paid when we hadn’t.

“The little things. Those little things you did showed you in a great light, and I want us to go back,” I told him.

He laughed and said, “Those days are long gone. That was when I was trying to get you to love me. Now, what you see is what you get.”

I went home and decided it was time to move on. What was the point of dating a man who wasn’t willing to change for the good of the relationship? For over two weeks, we didn’t talk. When he called, he tried to make me apologize since I was the one who left. I refused, so he hung up again. I heard from him after a month.

He came home to apologize. He brought chocolate—“The one you said you missed,” he told me. “I’ve changed. I’ll be better for you.”

We had sex even before I could tell him I’d agreed to take him back. I got pregnant that day, and his last words were, *“Because I changed for you, now you want to reward me with a pregnancy? Enfa! Let it go.”*

I didn’t, so he let the relationship go.

Someone Who knows What It Means To Be In Love

I’m currently seven months along, but not a single day goes by without me wondering if I’m making the right decision. I don’t have a problem having a child—I can take care of it very well—but the man I’m having a child with… will I look back someday and be proud that I ever dated him, let alone allowed myself to have his child?

It’s been a constant struggle, but there’s no going back. The only way is forward. It hurts terribly that this is happening, but lessons have been learned. The rest is about trying to live without regret.

—Freda

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