We were both skeptical about each other; it was expected. He met me at a time when I wasn’t even sure about giving an Adam generation the benefit of the doubt. It took months before I could even give him a listening ear. And when I finally did, I was still shaking. But they once said it’s better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all. So I shrugged and gave him a yes. But before that, I gave him pieces of me. I told him, “If you break my heart, you would have only given me the base I need to be a spinster for life. If you don’t want me anymore, let me know, and I will go.”

After two years of falling so deeply in love with him, I cannot marry him. Not because the love I have for him isn’t overwhelming enough to do life with him. It is simply that a man of God is standing in our way. To call him a man of God is even giving too much credit, he seems like one of those false prophets they mentioned in the Bible that would come in the end times.

I’ll tell you how.

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We were ready to take it to the next step. He had seen my parents, and my mother typically gave me a tap on the back for bringing such a man home. My father and him clicked. If anything, I’m practically best friends with his family now too.

He called me on the phone and told me we had something important to discuss. My heart shrank. We spoke briefly. “So, what is it about?” I asked him. “Oh, it’s just a message from God.” What did God tell him? “He said that he needed to see me before he could break the news.”

His voice sounded like either he had been shouting for too long or crying. And I was scared.

I heard it very clearly and loudly, and I remember my stomach dropped.

“The pastor said that I can’t marry you,” he said. “He said that if I go ahead and marry you, my life will turn around for the worst part.” I didn’t say anything. I let him have the floor. He continued talking. “He is saying that you are bad luck.”

When he finished, I opened my door and asked him to leave.

Many things beat my mind. Like how? We have been together for 2 years. 24 months. 730 days. 17,520 hours. And you go to some man of God, he tells you that I am bad luck, and you just nod instead of speaking up for me?

He was barely surviving when we started dating. For the first year, there was barely anything good about his life. But we held hands and walked through the rough patches together. We have fought, but still found our way back to each other. We built something from nothing. We are not rich, but we are better off than we started. That is what love is supposed to do, right? Grow. We have grown so much, and now he wants to leave me in the waters because a pastor says so.

All these years, I didn’t see it coming. I would have been on guard, but here I am.

I am between rocks, love and common sense. Should I fight for the man I have come to love so much? Or do I let him go? Is it going to be a worthy fight? Am I going to lose the fight against a man who is so sure his pastor is someone who hears from God?

If I want to fight, do you think I have a chance at winning? Let me put it out there that he is good people, a kind man, a man who listens. But is he truly worth it? Will I hold my head in pain afterwards?

Should I join the Muslims on their fast and pray to God to change his mind? To make this man of God realise he was wrong, to make him see that I am truly the best thing to ever happen to him?

I Left Him Because He Didn’t Help In The Kitchen

I’ve been thinking about it. Because if anyone can soften a heart or open blind eyes, it should be Him. The same God this pastor claims speaks through him. The same God my man claims to serve.

Talk to me. I’m listening.

—Kro

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