We were married for five years and had a child. We were very good friends before marriage so we thought the strength of our friendship could sustain our marriage. We failed. Sometimes I think of it but don’t get what failed. The breaks? The pumps? The clutch? All we saw was the vehicle of our marriage running into a ditch.

There were complaints. After the child, he didn’t want to come close to me again. I had to beg my husband to make love to me. He blamed it on stress, blamed it on his job, blamed it on me, blamed it on the intensity of the sunshine. Anything to stay away from me.

I didn’t feel loved but that wasn’t a deal breaker. When he started shirking his responsibilities as the man of the house, I couldn’t sit and stare. He blamed it on his job. He blamed it on an unknown misfortune, the mountains the bees, the birds. Anything but himself.

We started fighting. I mean a lot. Not only verbal. Physical too. We threw things at each other. We slept in separate places in the house. There was only one bed. Whoever took it first used it for the night.

One night after a long battle with words, he uttered the word that broke us into pieces; Divorce.

“I need a divorce,” he said.
“Thank God you said it. I crave it now like an icing on a cake.”

He left the next day and didn’t come back to stay until our marriage was dissolved. I was happy for a few months until depression set in.

I missed everything about my marriage, especially the toxic side of the marriage. I missed a man shouting at me. I missed shouting back. I missed a man’s angry face, the barking voice when he’s defending his toxicity. I miss a man’s hand around my body at night after an intensive fight.

I sent our boy to my mom and took a job opportunity outside Ghana with the hope of starting all over again. According to my mom, my ex-husband came by every day to see the boy. He bought him toys. Paid everything in full. Took him out often. My mom asked, “Why didn’t he do all that when you were together?”

One day I called him and said, “Thank you for everything you’re doing for our son. I appreciate it a lot and I think my mom likes you for that.”

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One time call turned into everyday conversation. We reminisced on good days and laughed over the bad ones. “Boy we were terrible together,” I said. He responded, “How could good friends end up this terrible?”

Old flames. The flickers started sparking. We talked about a second chance. He said yes. I said no but when he suggested he wanted to visit me, I accepted it.

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I worked with friends here and out there to get him a visa. He was here for a month and we never parted ways. Sex was sexing. Touch was touching. We didn’t sleep apart though we ought to. A week before he left town he told me, “I want to work here. Is it easy?”

He’s been here for a year, working the field and working the garden of our love. We agreed to start all over again but in a different world. We are not legally married but what we have is a happy one. Our boy is joining us soon. We don’t know much but we know this much to be true that we want to start all over again. A clean slate kind of a start.

— Lovlie

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