Growing up, I had a thing for handsome guys. Not because I was promiscuous, far from it. In fact, I never even had the courage to tell them how I felt. I’d just admire them from a distance, quietly.

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After high school, I moved to a new city for work. That’s where I met Lade, one beautiful guy.

We worked in the same office and gradually became close through casual conversations. He had a girlfriend at the time we met. I also had a boyfriend at the time who lived in Ghana. I met him through his elder sister here in Nigeria. He visited occasionally, but the distance dealt with us. We tried hard to hold on, but eventually, we didn’t work out.

At that point, I had grown very close to Lade. I even started liking him romantically. But I kept my feelings to myself because of his relationship. I was so good at hiding them that he never suspected a thing.

Then one day, I heard from the grapevine that he broke up with his girlfriend. I am not going to lie, I didn’t feel sad. I felt a mix of relief and hope. In my mind, her absence meant I had a chance at making something work with him.

People at church and work who saw us together said we were a beautiful couple. It got to my head. And the attention Lade gave me got to my heart. We were always together everywhere we found ourselves. From office, to church, and sometimes we lingered at these places after hours, just so we could spend more time together.

This closeness went on for a year, then two. I was patiently waiting for him to propose love to me. Only to learn that Lade was dating another woman in our church. He didn’t tell me. I found out accidentally while reading something on his phone.

My heart broke.

For so long, I watched him fall deeply in love with this new girl. He was so protective, possessive, and affectionate. It hurt, but I never showed it. I cried silently.

Over time, I started noticing changes in him. The girl seemed to be a bad influence on him. His personality changed. And his finances began to go down the drain.

Everyone was worried. His family complained. His friends asked questions. Even his students knew something was wrong. We all tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen to us. I even reached out personally, but he didn’t listen. Eventually, we drifted apart.

We saw that he was too deep in love to see reason. So we let him be. Although I never liked her, I accepted her because of him. I felt so helpless watching him wither in that relationship. The only thing I could do was pray for him from a distance.

The distance between us even grew wider when I stopped working at the same place as him.

Soon enough, I thought of him less and less. Then months later, I heard from the same grapevine that they broke up.

The girl didn’t want to let go. She started calling everyone, including me, to beg him to take her back. But no one helped. Honestly, none of us liked her to begin with. We even thanked God for the breakup.

Now that she is gone, Lade and I are slowly reconnecting. His mom and siblings really love me. At church, his mom would turn to me and say, “Godsgift, your hair is beautiful. Don’t you agree, Lade?” Sometimes she spoke about my dress and makeup.

He has started giving me all his attention again. It feels nice, but I’m cautious. I don’t want to open my heart too much. What if he finds another girl and leaves again?

One memory that haunts me the most happened when his ex threw him a surprise birthday party, and everyone was invited except me. I only found out after the party. When his friends tried to show me a video of the event, he stopped them and sternly warned them never to show those videos. There were other people present. I felt terrible but I acted as if it wasn’t a big deal.

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When that incident comes to mind, I cry. I don’t know what to think of him anymore. He is giving me signs that he is interested but after everything I have seen, I am not sure I can fully accept him, even if he proposed. A part of me will always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love him. I just can’t forget the pain of having him choose someone else over me. Especially when I think about the fact that the girl lived with him. How she acted like a wife whenever we visited him. She would tie wrapper and carry her shoulders high as if she owned the place. Don’t even get me started about the part where her baby called him “Daddy.”

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These memories hurt too deeply. It’s making me question his intentions for suddenly being kind to me again. Maybe he’s changed. Maybe not. But for now, I’ve decided to lock my heart again.

I just hope I’m doing the right thing.

—Godsgift

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