We have been talking for two years now. By all accounts, we should have moved past the “talking stage” and into a defined relationship long ago. But, we are stuck. There are a thousand reasons for this, and if I am being honest, one of them is me.

When you have been shattered the way I have, loving again feels less like a leap of faith and more like a walk through a minefield. I know people have survived worse and moved on, but resilience isn’t a competition. We all heal at different speeds.

The only reason I entertained him at all was because I thought I was finally ready to reach back. When he stretched out his hand, I took it. When he called, I picked up. He asked questions, I answer.

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But beyond my own hesitation, there is also him.

My intuition has been raising quiet alarms about certain things, things I have tried to overlook because I keep telling myself I might be too hard on myself, or even on him.

He calls excessively. Sometimes up to eight times in a row. It does not seem to occur to him that I might be busy, or asleep, or simply unavailable. If he calls and finds me on another line, he becomes restless and starts asking who I was talking to. It got so intrusive that I had to tell him to stop asking me that question altogether.

When he is wrong and needs to apologise, it is never straightforward. He talks a lot, becomes defensive, and only apologises when he notices I have gone quiet or I am standing my ground. He also has a habit of constantly praising himself, always reminding me of how good a person he is, as if I need convincing.

Then there are things that do not sit right with me at all.

He finds it difficult to tell me basic information about himself, like his age. The last time I asked him to confirm it, and whether he had a child, he broke down crying. Not just quiet tears, but full, uncontrollable sobbing. It shocked me. I was not accusing him of anything. I just wanted clarity. He said I was making it sound like he was old and childless. I even asked to see his Ghana card for confirmation, and he said it was missing.

Recently, I told him directly that he was coming off as possessive and controlling. His response was simply, “Do you really feel I am controlling you?”

That question has been sitting with me ever since.

I am worried. I overthink constantly. I do not know if my inability to connect with him is coming from my past wounds or from these present warning signs. Maybe it is both.

But I cannot ignore how I feel.

And I keep asking myself, if this is how it feels now, what would it feel like if we were actually together? Would I feel safe? Would I still be allowed to have a social life, to exist as my own person, to speak freely with others without being questioned?

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Or would I slowly shrink into someone who is constantly explaining herself?

I do not have all the answers yet. But I know this much. Or you don’t think so?

—Myra

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