She spent two weeks constantly drumming Valentine’s Day into my ears. It started with, “Ebo, what are you doing for me on Valentine’s Day?” Then it escalated to, “You have to show me something—something men do when they are in love.”

I asked what she wanted, but she only told me what she didn’t want. “Don’t bring me chocolates and wishes. Those are for kids. Show me something. Something good.”

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So, I planned a dinner date at a place she picked herself. It was quite expensive, but I didn’t hesitate. I set aside money for the night. I wasn’t going to break the bank, but I also knew I had to make her happy.

When we finished work, I went home to freshen up and called her to get ready. I arrived at her place around 8 p.m., but she was still dressing up. You know how women are—the care they give to their appearance whenever they step out. I sat on her bed while she moved around, mixing beauty the way an alchemist mixes elements to produce magic.

Then there was a knock. No—there was a call first, then the knock on the door. She glanced at her phone’s screen and put it down. The call came again. She muttered something and pressed the mute button. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I sat up as she went to open it. I heard a scream and got up to see who it was.

Roland!

She had dated Roland before he travelled abroad. A year later, their relationship was non-existent. According to the story she herself told me, Roland stopped calling and stopped responding to her messages. The next thing she knew, he was parading a white lady on his social media profiles. Their relationship had died.

Roland appeared that day with boxes, walked in, and dumped them on the chair before he noticed I was there. He greeted me, and I nodded. He turned to Jennifer and asked if she was going somewhere. She responded, “Isn’t that obvious? What do you want here?”

The guy looked at me, apologized, and told her he would call later. As he was stepping out, I thought Jennifer might call him back to take his things, but she didn’t. After he left, she stopped dressing up and sat on the bed next to me. She looked distraught. She asked me, “Why is he doing this? Where did he come from? Why are men like that?”

I wasn’t Roland, so I couldn’t answer any of her questions. Slowly, we dragged ourselves out of her room. In the car on the way to the restaurant, she slouched in her seat and stared out the window until we arrived. She wasn’t herself. When the menu came, she said she wasn’t hungry. “Not even a drink?” I asked. She shook her head. I said, “Then we might as well go home now.”

She got up, and we left. She apologized for ruining our night. It was my turn to stay silent until we parted ways.

She’s back together with Roland now. She sent me this message: “You know, the two of us didn’t really break up. It was just the distance and some misunderstandings. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I don’t want to lie to you or string you along.”

My response was, “M’ati. Thank you for everything.”

That Is The Craziest Thing I’ve Ever Done In The Name Of Love

People celebrated love and made love on Valentine’s Day, but this is how my Valentine’s Day went. I lost what I thought was love. Roland didn’t have to lift a finger. He just had to show up and blow everything to pieces with his presence. What can I say? M’ati.

—Ebo

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