When I was growing up, I watched someone I cared for come close to death, then fight their way back to life. It was hard to witness. The uncertainty alone was enough to shake me, and I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone.

It broke me in ways I didn’t understand at the time. But it also taught me something I carry with me to this day: life is fragile, and we don’t control much. So when joy comes, we hold it close. And when sorrow shows up, we pray for the strength to survive it. That lesson has stayed with me and it’s helped me survive heartbreaks that could’ve driven me to madness.

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I’ve been in and out of love a few times. Some people left me with memories I’ll never forget, others with lessons I’ve kept to myself. All of them changed me in one way or another.”

The one I’m in now… or maybe the one I was in: I’m not even sure when it began. It wasn’t planned. It just happened. You know how they say, “just go with the flow”? I did. We both did. And somewhere along the way, I found myself in something I couldn’t name; we didn’t name it.

I ended up with a man who’s lived through pain. Real pain. And I thought, maybe that’s what makes him safe. Maybe someone who’s been broken would know better than to break someone else. So I gave it my all. I gave him softness, patience, and understanding. I gave him me. Sometimes when I talk about my pain, he looks at me and says, “Girl, you don’t know what suffering is.” And I just sit there, quiet. At first, I thought he was just remembering his own hurt, maybe trying to say, “I’ve been through worse.” I didn’t take it personally. I let it slide., but he was just about showing me a new kind of pain, a new kind of “pepper.”

At first, it was beautiful, the kind of beginning that makes you believe in love again, but slowly he started pulling away, and I began to wonder if maybe he didn’t care enough to stay close. I would call, and the calls would go unanswered, and I had no idea why, so sometimes I complained, and other times I just curled up in silence, trying not to think too much, because how do you show up for someone who doesn’t want you there?

One day, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I went to his house, uninvited, hoping to understand what was really going on. I needed clarity. I needed something honest. But the moment I stepped inside, I knew I had been fighting a battle I had already lost.

I told him, “Let me love you.” I meant it. But the words didn’t move him. He didn’t care about what I had said, so I took a minute to breathe in and that was when I smelt the other woman.

His room didn’t feel like a man living alone. It smelled like a woman had been there. Not just once, but often. Her scent lingered in the air, soft and certain, like she had quietly made it her place.

He had a woman in his life long before I came into the picture, and from what I saw, I have to respect her, because she seemed mature, she seemed experienced, and she knew how to care for a man. She’s going through a divorce, and I don’t know the details, but that’s her story, and it’s not mine. She’s a nurse, and when he was drowning in pain, she was the one who pulled him out, not me.

I took her tour around the house myself, and I knew I stood no chance fighting a man with her. She cooked for him, she stocked his fridge, and from the way they spoke on the phone, you could tell there was love there, real love, and I knew I couldn’t be the one to break that.

She was there before me, and she has invested so much in him, and that made me realise I needed to step aside, not because I’m weak, but because I’m wise. She’s the best person for him, and I must now gather myself, wish them well, and try to rebuild my own life.

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He once told me, “I don’t think you’ve seen much in life,” and now I understand what he meant. I’m 25, he’s 40, and the other woman, though I don’t know her age, is a divorcee, and I believe she’s more seasoned, more grounded, and probably better equipped to handle the storms he carries.

If I say I’m not heartbroken, I’d be lying to myself, but I’m praying this pain will pass, and that one day, I’ll smile again, not because I’ve forgotten, but because I’ve healed.

I wish them well. Truly.

—Yaa

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