He Walked Away Because I Was Too Secure

Sometimes, I find it very hard to accept the situation I’m in. I’ll just sit on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands, and ask myself over and over how I ended up in such a predicament. How did the most beautiful feeling in the world turn into this awful one? How is it possible to give your all to a person, just for that person to want someone he can “start to build up from nothing with,” as if I’m an old house nobody wants and he’s a new one?

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Let me take you back to the very start.

Last year, on a totally unremarkable Tuesday, I met Elvis at a business seminar at Alisa. It was not a part of my plans to go; still, there was an instinct I could not ignore that made me go. I was in a positive mood and thought that a little bit of networking would do no harm.

He saw the seat next to me that was not occupied and inquired if he could have it. With a smile that could not be ignored, he said, “Hi, can I take this place?” I lifted my gaze, grinned at him, and that was the point when destiny interfered.

The very first thing I loved about Elvis was that he was not showing off. He wasn’t making an effort to win anyone’s sympathy; he just sat there calm, with kind eyes and a tinge of shyness.

I was not very enthusiastic when he gave me his phone number. However, he rang me that very night and we talked for almost three hours. We exchanged life stories, difficulties, dreams, disappointments, and even our pasts. There was a feeling of security and familiarity with him that was almost as if I had lived with him in the previous birth.

With time, we could not live without each other. We were laughing as if it was the easiest thing to do, sharing meals, and telling each other secrets and fears. When he called me his peace of mind, I took him at his word. I completely trusted him and everything about him.

I have always been the kind of person to put in a lot of effort for what I have. I received nothing free of charge. At twenty, I left home and took jobs as a nanny, a shop girl, and a receptionist. I saved up for my return to school, and by the time I graduated, I had already learned the skill of establishing my own business. I constructed it from scratch, with blood, sweat, and tears, having made many mistakes along the way and experiencing several failures. So even though I may not have everything, I know how to make my dreams come true and what measures I will take to reach them. So when Elvis required help, I was more than happy to give him my support. Isn't that what partners are for?

At times, he required money to get his life back on track. I helped.
At times, he needed to borrow money when his employer was taking too long to pay him. I helped.
At times, he simply wanted to have a little extra for a small thing. I helped.

It was not a bother to me; I was glad to do it since he made me feel safe. Never did I feel like I was being taken advantage of, even for a second.

Slowly but surely, a situation began to develop. His phone calls became brief, texts took longer to arrive, and he appeared to be aloof. His presence in my life was accompanied by an air of distraction and insecurity. I guessed it was related to work so I tried to be the understanding type.

“Darling, please speak to me. What’s bothering you?”

He would decline and respond, “Nothing’s wrong, I am alright.”

But the truth was, he had a problem. It was only that I had no clue as to what it was the reason. Then one night, after two days of very strange behavior on his part, he said that he wanted to see me. He came, sat down at my bed's edge just like a stranger, his gaze darting, his fingers tapping on his knee. My heart sensed something bad was going to happen.

“I have been doing a lot of thinking,” he started. “I have come to the conclusion that we need to break up.”

"End what?" I murmured, expressing my hope that he was just kidding.

"Us," he replied in a low voice.

"Elvis, why? What was it that happened? What did I do?"

He maintained his position that I was not to blame, yet he couldn't reconcile his feelings with me or the situation. I disliked the future consequences of his decision. "What does that mean?" He let out a breath that was sharp, like one that has been held in for months, "You have everything figured out," he said. "Your business, your home, your life. You’re settled. You’re secure. You are not depending on me for anything. But that is not what I want from a wife. I need to be with a woman whom I can develop. Someone who can be built with me from ground up. Someone who is on the same page with me."

My reaction was akin to being stabbed in the heart. "All because of my success, you are leaving me now?"
"Not just that. I am wishing I could find such a way of explaining it that you would grasp."

I was feeling like screaming. I was wanting to shake him. I was wanting to remind him of those nights when I was with him just listening to his concerns, the days when I was there cheering him on, besides the money I gave him, and the love I invested in him. How could it be possible for a man who already loves him, and has come to know him, to be so attractive with "starting from the beginning" with another woman as opposed to growing with his already existing?

I left no stone unturned. I implored. I wept. I took his hands in my hands and professed I would be anything he wanted. If he wanted more regard, I would give it. If he required more room, I would give it. Yes, I realize how desperate that sounds. I was begging a man not to walk away from me. But that is what love does; it puts you to test in ways pride cannot.

As it turned out, a couple of minutes and a conversation brought to an end a love story of one year but it was really admirable of him to be straight. He was not like those men who would rather keep convincing themselves and their partners that the love is still there, thus, they would continue to hang around, and fire up your heart until you can no longer bear it and decide to leave. Elvis was not that kind of man; in fact, he did not even leave the slightest chance that he might come back one day.

Now, the nights are long for me as I keep going over the whole thing and asking myself if it was my fault. Would it be the same if I did not exaggerate my feelings? Is being a responsible woman intimidating to the Kenyan men? What am I even? Or would it have been better if I were the girl who desperately asked for Ksh200?

I am perplexed. Some days I feel like just going off on someone. Some nights I am feeling really embarrassed. I drove the guys away who were interested in me to concentrate on self-improvement. I rejected many offers because they seemed to be nothing but a diversion from the road to my dreams. Here I am, thirty-three years old and all ready but they still don’t want me. Elvis is not the only one, but he has definitely wounded me the most. What makes it harder is that some nights I do wish he would come back, even if it is just a little part of me that hopes. It has been several months, yet the hurt is still there because love, no matter how strong you are, can still make a desperate person out of you just for one more chance.

—Abena

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