I was her client when we first met. I just had an itch that desperately needed to be scratched that night. That was why I patronized her services. It was meant to be a one-night affair. It’s not as if she treated me with extra care. She did not show me any moves that went beyond the conventional way of intimacy. Everything was average. Yet for some reason, I found myself attached to her in a way I considered abnormal. It was as if I could not have enough of her body.

My attachment to her was so strong that I asked for her number after the whole affair. She didn’t hesitate before giving it to me. As time passed, I built a friendship with her. She was warm and receptive toward me. Sometimes we discussed her work. I thought if I saw a clear picture of what it meant for her to give her body to men in exchange for money, it would fix my interest in her.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help. I knew I was in trouble the day I asked her out officially and she accepted it. It surprised me how I was willing to make room for her job. I didn’t even have the urge to ask her to stop. I was rather prepared to offer her whatever support she would need to focus on her business.

Whenever I called or texted her and she told me she was out with another man, I would feel happy for her. “My babe is on her grind,” I would think, “And market seems to be good these days.” I know some people would say I don’t react with jealousy because I don’t love her. But that’s not true. If you truly love someone, you want them to be happy. That’s why I was always happy for her whenever she had to work. Lord knows I am not financially fit enough to shoulder her financial burdens. That’s why it was important that I let her chase that paper whichever way worked for her.

I didn’t want my presence in her life to bring her lack. So I never complained when she was too busy for me. I never gave her restrictions or tried to police her body. Even when it got to a point where she neglected my needs, I still accepted her for who she was.

Currently, she no longer gives me sex, attention, or the love I crave. I tell myself it is because I meet different men every day. These men are probably higher than me when it comes to status and money. Basically, she is way out of my league. The only thing keeping me tied to her is how deeply I love her. When it comes to her, I can’t boldly say she loves me. I know if I decide to leave her now, she will simply dust off our time together and move on with her life. What does she even need a relationship for anyway?

I am not blind to my insecurities in this relationship, just as I know that she too is insecure. She tells me I will leave her eventually. When I tell her I love her so I won’t leave she tells me, “It’s just a matter of time. Maybe you’ve seen that I don’t care, that’s why you don’t judge me. I am sure you are waiting for me to fall in love with you first before you hurt my feelings.” Anytime she says this, I look her straight in the face and tell her, “Believe it or not, I love you.”

Apart from her distrust for me, I have noticed that she has some personal struggles that she is not willing to open up about. On more than one occasion, I showed up at her place unannounced and found her trying to take her life. It’s also one of the reasons I stick around. I consider myself her hero. The guy who swoops in at the last minute to save her from herself.

It is why although she doesn’t initiate communication, I do it without complaints. True, ever since we began this relationship, I have been the one who is first to call or text her. If I didn’t, we would go for days without hearing from each other. Even our hangouts, I am the one who always asks to see her.

That’s how one time I decided to wait and see if she would call me for a few days. That wait lasted for weeks. I thought I could keep it up until I found myself missing her terribly. So I caved. When I called to tell her I missed her, she asked me to meet her at the girls’ bar. That bar was the place where I met her for the first time. It was a cold night but I went.

I called her several times after I arrived but my girl didn’t pick up. I became worried. The bar is not small. The distance from one end to the other is almost half a kilometer. I went back and forth that bar, searching the faces of the women cozied up to men in the dim lights, trying to find my runs-babe.

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At some point, I even went out hoping to find her on the streets but she was nowhere to be found. Judging from the way people stared at me as I spent longer than necessary in the bar and outside it, I could tell they thought me a brostitude.

When I finally heard back from her, it was past 4 am. She said she met a client while she was waiting for me. “I had to go work, sorry.” Upon seeing her text, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I was just relieved she was safe. It was also at that time that I came to my senses. “What am I doing? Why am I out of bed by this time? Who or what am I even looking for?” I asked myself. Nobody had to tell me to gather myself and head home.


Although I am crazy about her, I believe everyone has a breaking point and that incident was the last straw for me. I don’t know why she made me go all the way to the bar if she knew I would meet her absence. Even if she didn’t know, couldn’t she have sent a message right before leaving the bar so I would know to turn around? The more I think about it, the more I am convinced she did it on purpose. Maybe she is trying to test my limits. Or she is trying to teach me a lesson, so I would know the harsh conditions she endures every time she goes to work at night.

Whatever she was trying to prove, it didn’t work. Because I am here telling myself that I deserve a virtuous woman, but I don’t want one. I don’t care that this babe of mine is not perfect. I want her with all her shortcomings. I know it’s wild because what kind of future can we have if she doesn’t give up her nightlife? I wish there was a way I could prove to her that I am not pretending to love her. I am tired of all the games she plays in an attempt to push me away. I don’t even know what to do anymore. I am just here to vent.

—Divine

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