“The beauty of some things are so bright that we fail to see its ugliness.” This is the story of a Single Mum and how she fell from love to despair. It’s a sad one, but you should read it.
I met Richard in church years ago, when I was still much younger. When love to me was nothing more than a word, a mere word. Until that night in Richard’s room.
Richard was tall, dark, muscular with a lot of hair on his head. The hair was the charm, the bait for every girl. His first Sunday in church was a strange one; he had looked familiar to every lady, including myself. Familiar in a romantic kind of way..
I was the lucky one; the only one who caught his beautiful eye. I was the one whose buttocks and breasts were of the perfect size. My nights became laced with moans, his desperate tongue exploring every single part of my body. His house became my house..until my stomach started bulging.
On a bright Saturday, I asked him, “Do you want the baby?”
It was direct. But it was the only sane and perfect way to ask. His stance was shaken. His countenance changed.
“What? Yes. Of course. I do.. I really want this baby..”
“I’m 22. I don’t have a job.. Will you marry me?”
He scratched the back of his head. It was obvious the question hit him in a point he never thought it would.
He replied, gently, “Marriage is deep. Long. Tiring. All other things we don’t know of.. And baby, I’m not just ready yet. I will take the baby…we will take the baby.. Together..”
I smiled, a smile that didn’t explain how I felt. I wasn’t relieved, something felt totally off in spite of his assurances.
It wasn’t long before he moved out, my fears were finally confirmed. We had stopped talking. He had refused to kiss me on countless occasions. I failed. The pregnancy could have been prevented, the baby. I hated myself for his mistake, or our mistake.
But it was a break-up already. I was alone in his big house; at least he left me that.
I would grow up to be a single mother. But the scar on my heart will forever remain etched on it.
But I didn’t know, he had committed suicide that day he left. I never knew until today, the same day he left five years ago.
Story developed by David Adewusi for GLOWVILLE
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