I married my husband when I was twenty-five. He was waiting for me to complete school. He was lurking in the dark when I was doing my service. He wanted to marry me while I was still in school but I had to put brakes on his love and make him wait. Immediately after I finished my national service, he held my hand and took me to the altar. I said, “I do.” He said, “I take you as my wedded wife.”

I moved in with him to be his wife and he, my husband. I was dazed by his love for me. That was all I knew. That he loved me and wanted to marry me. There was no point in time did I ask myself if I loved him too. I was just following him, saying yes to the plans he made without asking myself questions. After marriage, I began to ask if I indeed loved him enough, a question I should have asked years ago.

We didn’t have problems as a couple. He played his role very well and I played my role very well too. We both went to bed contented and grateful hoping to see what the next day would bring. The next day brought us a child. Our first. The marriage was barely two years old. It was during those periods I started feeling empty. I didn’t feel loved enough or I was loved but didn’t feel the touch of love. I was always thinking, missing all the love I let go of just to settle with my husband.

The person I confided in during those periods was Casper, a colleague at work. We were friends and because of his crazy nature and his willingness to tell me everything, I decided to share my marital issues with him. He sympathized with me. He told me to take it a day at a time. When I told him I met a beautiful man and was crushing on him, he told me, “It looks like you’re too hungry you’ll eat anything.”

He was honest with me. He wasn’t married but he told me he had learned that what I was going through was a phase in marriage. He kept me grounded and even suggested I should see a counsellor. He was my counsellor. I didn’t need another one.

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Casper got married to his long-time girlfriend and was out of the office for one month. I was missing him. I had a lot to say to him but he wasn’t around to listen. I wrote them down in my journal so I wouldn’t forget to share them with him. Sometimes, I did voice notes and sent them to myself, waiting for the day Casper would appear in the office.

He came. His ring was dazzling on his finger. I told him he looked better a married man than a single man. I sat him in a corner and poured everything I’d saved on him. He told me, “I’ve been married for only a month but I think I’ve experienced what you’re talking about.” I screamed, “You also don’t love her like you thought you did?”

He was feeling the emptiness he thought marriage could fill. I told him it was only a month and he would later grow out of that emptiness. I hadn’t grown out of mine but I was encouraging someone to grow out of his.

Anytime I saw the ring on his finger and I looked at mine, I thought, “We should have been the pair in love. He’s empty and I’m empty too. Who knows? We would have been able to fill each other up.”

I was shocked I was letting myself fall helplessly for Casper, someone I didn’t love or see any love interest in. “He was just a friend so what changed?”

The ring. It had a charm on me and I wished I was the reason he wore his ring. The ring made him appear a responsible man. Someone who goes home to tell a woman what he will eat and the style he wants in bed. He appeared bigger than he used to be so I found myself crushing on him. I looked into his eyes each time he talked about his marriage. I was happy he wasn’t happy in his marriage. It made me feel he was available to be taken.

I started dressing for him. When I was home, I imagined my husband was Casper. When he talked, I chose to hear Casper’s voice. In bed, I imagined him as Casper. One dawn I hugged him from behind. He liked it. It felt different for both of us but in my mind, he was Casper. I was cheating, I know but I had no regret doing that because I felt the imagination about Casper was bringing good things into our marriage, even into our sex life. Things changed in bed when I started thinking of my husband as Casper.

I needed someone to talk to about this new behaviour. Casper wasn’t the best person to talk to about Casper so I stayed clear of him. The day I had to consciously hold my tongue from calling my husband Casper during sex, I told myself, “I need help before I destroy everything.”

I went to knock at the door of the man who counselled us before our wedding. He was happy to see me. I told him, “I’m in love with another man.” He sat straight up in his chair and held his chin between his thumb and index finger. He asked, “Have you slept with him?” I answered, “Yes but it’s complicated.”

When I finished narrating my story he sighed and told me, “You’re married doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love. What stops us from acting on our feelings is our morals. You need to push your moral compass to the north, its sleeping place and watch things turn around in your life.”

He took the place of Casper, my counsellor. Instead of talking about my loneliness and emptiness with Casper, I talked to the counsellor about them. He gave me assignments. He gave me books to read. He invited me to marriage retreats with my husband. The change was slow but it happened. I allowed Casper to be a friend instead of an object of my adulation. When he brought up his issues, I advised him to speak to a counsellor too. He didn’t listen. He’s a man. Men have ways of dealing with their demons.

The good thing is, my life is now different. I still feel the emptiness, the hollow grounds that threaten to swallow me but the difference now is that I understand why it happens and I know how to keep my moral compass in the north. My husband has always been happy in this marriage. I came late but joy is never late. Our marriage is joyful, regardless of the emptiness that comes sometimes.

—Adjeley

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