It all started when I went to Ghana for a friend’s wedding. He was the stylist who sewed the groom’s outfit, so he was often around the groom and the groomsmen. He was always busy fixing a collar or making sure everything was worn just right. From the way he moved, you could tell he was diligent and hardworking. Every time our paths crossed, he smiled.

After the wedding, we became friends. We started talking to each other almost every day. It became part of my routine. Tim would call me early before work, during his break, after work, and right before I slept. I had returned home by then, and we were two hours apart. Most times when I called, he was sewing, stitching some fabric or drawing sketches. But he still made time for me. Sometimes we would stay on a video call all night while I watched him finish a client’s outfit. That was always my favorite time, and I think it was his too. He often said it, “I love talking with you,” and I believed him. I could feel it, the same way I can feel God’s love. It felt real.

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Maybe I’m saying all this because I like him. I really do. I like the way he takes screenshots of our calls and sends them to me later with sweet captions. I like how transparent he is with me. I love when he blows kisses at the camera while we talk. It’s beautiful. It calms me and makes the butterflies in my stomach happy. I am happy with him, but right now, he is refusing my help with something he urgently needs.

All this time, he has been working with his friend. It was a partnership. But along the line, his friend said he wasn’t interested anymore. He backed out, took his investments, and even took his customers away. Three months ago, Tim left and went back to Nigeria, where he thought he already had a thriving business. But that is also going down the drain now. I know he is hurting, emotionally and financially, and he is drawing back into a shell. He is pulling away from me, or maybe pushing me away. At this point, I don’t even know which is which. But that is what is happening, and I am worried about him.

He isn’t really picking up my calls. He doesn’t reply to my messages. I was mad at first, but then I realized he had gone quiet on all his social media accounts too. So I tried harder to reach him. When he finally did, he gave an excuse. He said he wants some space to be alone with the difficult moment he is going through. That maybe God is trying to tell him something, or maybe not. He pleaded with me to give him time and said he would reach out when he is ready. It’s typical of someone who avoids things, but it isn’t fair to me. He should let me in, right? I should get to share in his trials, right? When I said yes to being his girlfriend, I didn’t just sign up for the good days. I also want to be there when he is vulnerable. If he needs to cry and let it out, I am okay with that. I want to be there for him.

I am your typical stingy stubborn girlfriend. I am offering to help him financially. He should just name what he needs, and as long as I have it, I am willing. I even tried stroking his ego, telling him it’s just a loan, to take it and pay me back whenever. But he said no. He keeps saying things like, “You’re working on your project too, so you need the money more than I do,” or “Don’t worry, I will be fine.” Then he smiles and looks at me on the call.

I am worried for him. I am wondering why men won’t just accept help. You are the same people who say, “Help a man, ask him what he wants,” and all that. Here I am, begging to help the man I love so much, and he is vehemently refusing. And I am tired, because I keep thinking a lot. What happens when he is alone and quiet in his room? Does he think of taking his life? Does he think of giving up? But I am here. I call him. I text him. I let him in on my daily activities. I send Bible verses, words of encouragement, voice notes, everything I know. I am applying everything in the book, hoping something works.

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I still call him. He is not picking up. I text him. He is not replying. I send words of encouragement. He is not seeing them. How else can I help someone who doesn’t want me to be there for him? I am so worried about him.

Why do men refuse help even when they’re breaking?

—Akua

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