I’d been trying to learn how to drive for a very long time, though I didn’t have a car. My boyfriend had one, but I didn’t ask him to teach me. I only asked him to help me register for a driving school. He said, “What can they teach you that I can’t teach you? When I’m free, I will do it.”

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He would say he would do it when he was free, but this guy was never free. I pushed and nagged and complained until he decided to teach me. The first day was scary, but I did my best. He trained me in a park, so it was just fun and vibes.

The fourth day didn’t go so well because we ended up fighting. He was never patient with me. A small mistake, and he would talk to me like he was talking to a child. On the fifth day, he stopped teaching me and drove home because I was annoying him.

I apologized to him and even gave him makeup sex the way he wanted it before he agreed to do it again. I should have stopped and found another way to learn. The next day, I hit the side of a container shop at the edge of the park and broke the light and sustained some minor scratches.

He quickly got out of the car while yelling as if it was his left kidney that had hit the container. “You see what you’ve done? What is wrong with you? Turn left and you’re turning right. Step on the brake and you’re stepping on the accelerator. You’ll pay!”

He made me pay every penny of the repairs and bought a new light. He said he was punishing me so that next time I would be careful. It wasn’t intentional. It was an accident, but the love of my life made me pay every penny with the little savings I made during my national service.

Can you tell me with all certainty that this relationship has a future? Because as I write this, I’m thinking of wishing him well in his next relationship. I’m hurt. I’m seriously damaged, more than the damage I caused to the car. How could he? Even when I said I didn’t have money, he nearly chewed me alive. And he says he loves me?

—Linda 

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