If you haven’t read the first part of this story, here’s the link. Kindly read it before starting this one.

Alex had a friend. He was one of the people who advised Alex against marrying me. He was sceptical about me until he got close to our relationship and realized the kind of woman I was. He confessed to me when it became very obvious that I was going to marry Alex. He told me, “I didn’t know you’re such a good woman. Initially, I told Alex to look elsewhere. If he did, we would have been the biggest losers.”

He was at our wedding. His name was Fiifi. Right after we got married, I didn’t see him around again. We didn’t push him away. He came around once in a while until we didn’t see him again as we used to. When My kids died, he was one of the few people who called to console me. I was in a very bad place and was looking for just one person who wouldn’t make the whole thing look like my fault.

Fiifi became that person. He listened to me. He looked through me and saw the suffering. He said, “This can happen to everyone. It’s unfortunate that it happened to you.”

Because of the understanding he showed towards me, I called him whenever things got worse between me and Alex. He intervened for me on many occasions. At some point, Alex had a problem with him for speaking on my behalf.

When Alex talked about divorce, I called him; “Have you heard what your friend is saying? See the pain I’m going through. My heart is on fire but he decided that wasn’t enough. He wants a divorce.” He screamed, “No, that can’t be true. Maybe he’s speaking out of pain. I will speak to him.”

I knew he couldn’t change much but he was someone I could use to know what was going on in the head of Alex. He was the one who told me about the conspiracy theories Alex was forming even before Alex got vocal about them. He was like, “I was talking to Alex. He said this and he said that. Just be careful around him.” Or Alex is coming home to discuss this or that. Try to build your defence before he comes around.”

He was always giving me heads up and apart from my parents and my siblings, he was one person I found in my corner during the bad times. When me and Alex were finally over, he came to the fore. He would take me out and ask me to cool my head. It was tough for me. Many times I went through life without thinking. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just walked through life like a shadow, without thought and without footprint.

READ ALSO: He Will Marry Me After He’s Done Getting Married To His Fiancée

I was at the beach with Fiifi one evening when I started crying. It just happened. It could be the music they were playing. My mind wandered to the final hours of my kids and I started crying. He gave me his shoulders. He said everything would be fine. When I put my head on his shoulders, it felt very good. I hadn’t done it in a long while so I let my head stay there. He stroked my hand and told me not to worry. I fell for him that night. I knew that was what he wanted all along.

If he tried to kiss me, I would have allowed it. If he tried to take me home, I would have followed. If he tried to do anything with my body, I wouldn’t have fought back. My body was no longer mine. It was possessed by sorrow and had been taken over by pain. I wouldn’t have cared to give it to anyone who promised less pain. Fortunately for me, he didn’t do anything to me. He took me to my place and said goodbye.

The next day he proposed. That was what opened my eyes. I didn’t even think about it. I said No. He said he would give me time to think about it. I told him there was nothing to think about. “It won’t work even if forever comes. You’re not an easy choice to make because of history. I appreciate your kindness and care but I don’t think I need more of anything you can give. Thank you.”

From there, I started seeing him less and less. I rather decided to face my problems head-on. When my kids were alive, I saw them through themselves. Once they were gone, I saw them through everything. I could see a sheep and its babies crossing the street and it would remind me of Keith and Golden. I would go home and stare at their photos. I will cry a little and wish them peace wherever they are.

When I told my sister I nearly kissed Fiifi, she said, “No, you need therapy. You’ve always said no but not this time. If you don’t, I will tell everyone what you nearly did and you know what they can do to you.” She blackmailed me until I decided I would go for the therapy.

I thought Therapy could help me heal but it didn’t. It rather brought me close to what I was running from. Every session had my children in it. I cried every time. The only time I didn’t was when we talked about my marriage and how it came down. I told my therapist, “I’m glad it happened the way it did. He didn’t forgive me. I didn’t forgive myself too. If there was a way I could abandon myself because of that mistake, I would have.” She asked me, “Do you hate him now? I mean your husband.”

“Not at all,” I answered. “He’s dealing with his pain the best way he could, just like I’m dealing with mine. I wish we didn’t go the way we went. I wish he took it differently but then, you can’t determine how people should handle their grief or deal with their heartbreak. I only pray he’s fine because it really hurts.”

People told me to open up to another man. They advised me to start making new babies as soon as possible even if I’m not ready to get married. My friends started introducing me to men they thought I would like. My mom called one day and asked me, “What do you want to do with your life? Are you going to live the rest just like this, going up and down?”

I decided I needed a fresh start from a place where no one knew my story. When people know your story and are sorry for you, they always want to say something when they meet you. When you are trying to forget, they say something that brings back all the memories. They mean well but it’s better they don’t say anything but they always do.

So late last year, I packed what I could and left Ghana with all its memories and pains. Before the plane took off, I looked around and said, “I leave everything behind for this new start I’m embarking on. If it works, I will find a new man and maybe raise a new family.”

I’m here, living a new life that’s not actually new but at least, there are new faces and new buildings. Since I’ve been here, no one has asked me, “How are you?” Or “How are you holding on?” The friends I’ve made so far don’t know anything about my past. The colleagues I’m surrounded by care only about work and not my personal story. The walls of my room tell the stories of the people who once lived here but don’t know my story. This mirror hasn’t seen me cry and I haven’t hugged my pillows while I wet them with tears.

I Didn’t Tell Anybody Because I Enjoyed It

It’s a perfect new beginning. Sharing this story with you is the only time I’ve had to visit my past since I came here. I have a scab on my sore. I don’t intend to play with it until it peels off and makes me bleed again. I’m grateful to those who gave me kind words and motivation when I first shared my story. It helped. I came online often to read the new comments people have shared. I cried sometimes but it was what I needed.

And to the lady who recently commented under a post that she has been thinking about me, thank you very much and I want to say I’m doing very well. It’s a long winding road to healing but I’m taking it a step at a time. I’m fine and I hope you’re doing well too. 

—Enyo

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