We broke up on the night of August 2020. In June 2022 he got married. He married the lady he cheated on me with. That isn’t the most heartbreaking part of the story. I will tell you what is when we get there.

We started dating when a friend of mine introduced him to me to help him sign up for a program. I was then working for a recruitment firm when Jeff came in with his documents waiting for me to sign him onto the program. He was unemployed and that program was going to help him secure a job as soon as possible.

After that day, he called often asking for updates. Asking for updates turned into friendship. Friendship grew into “Give me some time to think about it.” I said yes after thinking about it. He still didn’t have a job and was my boyfriend so I had to make his case a priority to secure him a job. I pushed him up when he was undeserved. I made calls and enquired on his behalf when it wasn’t my job to do so. Love was involved and we often do the dictates of love even when it’s not ethical.

It wasn’t easy. It took me five months to get him a better job than I was doing. We celebrated like we’d won the lottery. The friend who introduced Jeff to me was also there. Fiifi. Fiifi came with his girlfriend, Jacinta. These three (Jeff, Fiifi, Jacinta) already had a solid relationship going on before I entered the frame. We had a party the night after his employment. He had been home for two years after school.

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He put me on a pedestal. Jeff. He showed me off to the world as the best thing that ever happened to him. I didn’t follow any of my exes to meet their parents because I wasn’t sure about them but I did it for Jeff. We had dated for only nine months when he took me home to meet his parents. He sang my praises like a canary. His father blessed me. His mom called me a blessing in his life.

I started looking forward to the future—a future where the two of us would belong together. When he rented his new place months later, he did it with me in mind. I did the decorations and put our photo frames on the wall. One in the bedroom, just on top of the headboard of the bed. The other was placed on the wall opposite the entrance so immediately you enter, you’ll see the two of us smiling in a photo, welcoming you into our abode.

One day I went there and the photo in the hall wasn’t there. He told me it fell so he had to work on it and forgot to hang it. I was wondering how it fell because the hanger was firmly on the wall with no dent or scratch. The bedroom one was there. That was the consolation that made me forget about the hall one.

Months later, I went there unannounced. He wasn’t home. I entered with a spare key and again the photo wasn’t there, even the one in the bedroom. I looked under the bed and it was there. I picked it up and hung it there. The hall one was behind the bookshelf. I fixed it back.

When he came back to see me there, he wanted to explain but I asked no question. I didn’t act angry. I didn’t act suspicious. I asked no questions though there were answers on his lips. I acted normal while he got inflated with guilt. I started looking for the answers and I found it through a young guy who lived in the house. I only have to be kind to him for a week to give me all the information. He even took a photo for me.

When I confronted Jeff, he didn’t fight back. He pleaded for a second chance and promised to be a better man. It was hard but I forgave him. Because it was hard for me to trust him again, we fought a lot. Over little things. Over big issues. Over issues that shouldn’t have been issues. He called me insecure and yet did nothing to assuage my insecurity. He broke up with me telling me he needed peace in his life and I wasn’t that piece of peace.

Less than two years later, Jeff married the same lady he cheated on me with. Now, here’s the heartbreaking part I told you about. The lady is Jacinta’s younger sister. Jacinta was aware they were dating. Fiifi, my own friend was also aware. Yet these guys took me in and treated me like I was one of them. When I caught  Jeff cheating, I discussed it with Fiifi. The fool I made of myself.

What hurts me now is not their marriage. What hurts me currently is the emotional burden and psychological scar Jeff left in my life. He’s there enjoying his marriage, maybe being the best husband every woman will ever hope for but I’m here carrying the painful relics of what he did to me. I don’t trust men because of him. I don’t believe a man deserves the best support from me because the one I supported chose someone else. I’m insecure and I’ve lost two good men because of my insecurity but the man responsible for this is out there coasting through life with the wife of his youth.

Yes, you’ll tell me to heal and move on just like my friends always tell me. They pushed me to see a therapist and I did. It’s GHC550 a session and I need at least ten sessions to heal. Do the maths. I’m paying money not because I have sins to pay for but because someone committed sins against me. How’s that fair?

I don’t wish him well. I don’t know how far down I want him to fall but I know he should pass through worse pains than I’m going through. When he prays, his prayer should hit the ceiling and bounce back to break his neck. He should see in a vision that he’s suffering because he made another human suffer. I wasn’t a bitter person but bitterness is one of the relics of our dead relationship. If nothing at all, he should suffer the bitterness he left in my mouth when he decided to stab me in the back 

—Ewurama

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