After dating for two years, I broke up with my ex-boyfriend in October 2020. Our relationship was amazing—it was the epitome of a perfect love story—we did everything together, he loved what I loved and I hated what he hated. I was convinced we were meant to be together, and I went everywhere he went. When we got bored, he would say, “Let us go for a drive,” and we would just drive around until it was time to head home. He enjoyed taking me on dates to the beach and by the pool.
We were a playful couple; I would dance to his songs, he would sing, and we would watch movies together, debating the story and characters—”Acrimony” being our favorite—and watch music videos together while I would twerk in front of him. He would always say, “You can twerk all you want when we are at home but you know I will not allow it when we are at parties,” to which I would usually laugh playfully.
The only place we never went together was church; on Sundays, he would tell me, “Go to church and pray for me. I will be here waiting for you.” I loved him; I had never loved someone so intensely. Whenever we got into a fight, we would sit down and work out our differences. Nobody went around holding grudges. That is why we were so inseparable.
I was always at his place, even though we lived in different Tema communities. Our jobs did not stop us from being together either. One day, while he was in the bathroom, his message notification went off. At first, I ignored it, but messages kept coming in; whoever was texting him was desperate for a response. So I picked up the phone and read through the messages, discovering that my man was seeing another woman.
I was shocked since I had lived literally with this man, following him everywhere, and I could not understand how he had time to amuse another girl.
The reason I ended our relationship was not because of his infidelity; rather, it was because of the way he acted when he realized I had caught him cheating. He became very angry and called me many derogatory names. He claimed that I had not broken his heart, saying instead that I had broken your own by reading my messages. I would have forgiven him if he had not shown even the slightest hint of regret or even pretended to apologize.
I realized how much I had cried over the years, and it was not because he had cheated on me; rather, it was because of the awful things he had said to me. His memories had trapped me in my own head, making it impossible for me to move on from him.
After six months of our breakup, I accepted a proposal from another man, believing that a new love would wash away the scars left by my previous one. Sadly, our relationship did not last more than three months, and I was the reason behind it. The new man I dated is named Bob, but I always called him Billy—my ex’s name—and I always apologized for doing so, but eventually, he had enough.
Before everything fell apart, we had shuperu twice. I slept with him in the hopes that it would help me forget about Billy, but both times, I pictured my ex lying on top of me, and I moaned the way Billy liked me to moan. I even gave him styles that I knew were Billy’s favorites. He said that I was cheating on him with my ex, Billy. Of course, this was not the case, but he did not believe me.
I allowed him to go even though I knew I was being unfair to him. I waited for him to finish, then pushed him away and coiled myself on the other side of the bed while crying inside. When he tried to talk to me, I picked up my bag and left. I did all of this thinking I was doing it with Billy, which is why I felt disappointed both times when I realized I was doing it with my boyfriend, Bob, and not my ex.
It took me three months after everything ended to let another person into my life. Bob could not make me forget about Billy, but I thought this new guy would. However, he was nothing like Billy at all—playful, raw, and stingy—and he could go days without saying anything to me. When I tried to push him, he would withdraw until he felt ready to talk. Within six weeks, our relationship ended.
Since then, I have remained single. It has been two years, and I am still here. Men have shown interest in me, but I have always turned them down. My justification is that I already have a man; however, in actuality, I have no one, I am not moved to be with anyone, and I do not even get turned on.
This year, when I attain thirty, I fear that I will turn forty and still be single. My best friend has made multiple attempts to introduce me to boys, but I always decline their advances. On a few occasions, I have even made the mistake of calling them Billy, which has effectively put an end to their desire.
I am constantly at church, and I attend Christian programs whenever I hear about them. When the man of God gives us a prayer topic, I will not pray on that; instead, I ask God to help me let go of Billy so that I can move on. However, my prayers have not been answered thus far.
Billy has been contacting me nonstop while I am waiting on God. He wants me back. I do not want to go back to him because of the way he insulted me. How can I go back to that? What if I go back and we break up again? Will he insult me again?
Sometimes I want to agree with my friend. It is possible that my ex-boyfriend cast a spell on me. Do you think the same? Or am I the problem? Or maybe I should forgive Billy and take him back. My friend said to me the other day, “Ngma, this is beyond physical. I am sure Billy has cast a spell on you. If you want your freedom, look for a spiritual person to help you break the ties.”
