The Man I Loved Broke Me Beyond Repair

It was three years ago, during our first encounter, that Eric made the impression of being the very one, the ideal: smart, soft-hearted, and ambitious. With gradual steps—laughter, dinners, and long talks we built up a life together, the nights seemed to us too short for sleep. I was sure I had met my twin flame.

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Then, the harsh truth of his unfaithfulness hit me. An SMS from a lady to him on his mobile phone—such a message did not call for any explanation. She was telling him how much she longed for the moments when “he held her” and questioning when they would have the opportunity to capture those moments again. The world crumbled down on me. I went to him, my face revealing nothing but contempt, and he did not even try to lie in a convincing way. He just let out a big breath, held me close, and confessed to making a mistake and then asking for my forgiveness. He swore it would never happen again, and I wanted to trust him so badly that it was almost like I had to go along with his words.

So, I granted him my forgiveness, fully certain that love would be able to repair what had been broken by disrespect. However, just a few weeks later, I came across yet another group of messages. That same woman, that same trickery. But this time it was even more painful—disturbing and intimate descriptions of their meetings, things he wanted to repeat and some of his preferences I never knew about. I Questions his honesty again, my tears unchecked, the only word coming out of my mouth was, “Why still me? What’s so special about her that you can’t let go? What does she give you that I don’t?”

He remained silent. Rather, he reiterated his promise not to repeat it. Just another meaningless excuse. Just another vow, "I swear it’s the last time.” I was there not because I was convinced about his words but because I was feeling trapped. I was shattered, delicate, and doubting my worth, but I thought it was wiser to get through the rain with an umbrella than to leave the ship, counting that it won’t rain...

My thinking was that throwing away three years of togetherness was foolishness. I held myself responsible and, in my self-doubt, asked if I was not enough. I thought if I put in more effort, he would ultimately come around. Yet, a few months down the line, I found him cheating again. Same girl. Same disloyalty.

But this time he did not even try to cover it up or apologize. He did not ask or even hide behind meaningless words. He stared me in the face and struck: “Don’t you realize I can’t get rid of her? I’m a polygamist. I will marry both you and her. If you can live with it, then alright.”

His tone was such as if he were the winner of a public debate and was asking for a show of hands. As if my heart was nothing more than a spare tire which he could carry in the trunk of his emotional vehicle. As if being in love with him was equivalent to sharing him. I resolved to quit, but quitting is not as easy as it sounds. It is all about having to get rid of all the memories, dreams, rituals, promises, plans, intimacy, and comfort. Hence, I remained longer than I ought to have, not because I acquiesced to his insanity but rather because leaving after three years felt like extracting flesh from bone. I still hoped that through my love he would recognize it and change, but instead, he just hid less of his real self.

The next thing was that he openly started to talk about the other woman, even daring to call her by sweet names things he never did for me over the internet. The insult was done with precision. That was the point when something broke inside me. I understood I was hanging on to a person who had already released me a long time back.

So I decided to leave for good this time. It was hard, but I managed to go through with it. I cut him off, and for weeks, I cried myself to sleep, trying to mend my broken heart and forget the past. The moment I was starting to breathe again, Eric was at my door with a strong smell of regret and desperation. 

Then he said the most unbelievable things I have ever heard: “Serwaa, she used juju on me. That’s the reason I couldn’t break up with her. But the juju is no more, and it has never been me. I love only you, and I can even show it. We can marry whenever you say.” 

Juju? Juju was the reason why he was posting about another woman on Facebook? Juju was the reason he proclaimed himself a polygamist? I should have laughed, but instead, I was paralyzed. There was a part of me, the silly part, that wanted to trust him again. That part wanted us to be together once again. 

However, the smarter part of me was telling: 

“Serwaa, love doesn’t justify bringing you down.”
“Real man will not put another woman in your face if he wants you.”
“If he really loved you, juju wouldn’t have any power over him.” 

Right now, I am at a crossroads where one road goes back to the man who crushed my heart and the other goes to an unknown future. He says he wants to marry me right away, that he was a prisoner and not in control of his actions, that he was enchanted.

My heart has an incredible memory: it remembers the tears, the betrayal, the humiliation. I really can't tell if coming back means to heal my wounds or to open them up again. Similarly, I am not sure if the act of forgiving him again signifies the regaining of love or the loss of my mental stability.

I am really tired and at the same time terrified that I might choose the wrong option again. Maybe there is someone out there who has gone through a similar experience or can relate to this kind of heartbreak. Be honest with me, what do you think I should do? Should I take him back and trust that this time is really different? Or should I just walk away for good so that love does not take all of me? I am in need of clarity. I am in need of the truth.

I do not know if I am writing this to get some advice, to get the confirmation that I am not mad, or just to express my suffering. Is there anyone listening? Please, help me.

—Serwaa

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