There’s a different kind of pain you feel when you find yourself in the same situation you promised yourself you’ll never be in. I don’t know if it was my naivety, my brokenness or my love for Charles that made me give him a second chance after he had humiliated me and kicked me out of his house.
Charles was one of the best people I had ever met. He showed me a life that I had never seen before. I only used to see some things on social media, yet he let me into his life and showed me what it was like to have some money in this country.
We didn’t have much growing up, so I wasn’t used to any kind of luxury. Even when I started dating, I only met my fellow hustlers, and the most they could afford were chocolates and cakes.
Meanwhile, Charles used to order takeaway food for me every time I went to visit him, take me to high end clubs, buy me gifts and give me upkeep money. I was living a good life. All I had to do was say what I wanted, and he would provide it. Eventually, I moved into his house.
“You’re the woman of this house now,” he said as we unpacked my things.
“This is like a dream,” I said.
“It’s real, baby.”
His house was nice but it clearly lacked a woman’s touch. He barely had any utensils. His curtains were all different colours, and his carpet looked like it had been through a war.
Slowly, I turned his house into a home. I cleaned every corner of the place, bought utensils, decorated, and got professional cleaners to clean his couch and carpet. It was like a brand new home. Even Charles couldn’t believe how good his place looked.
I felt more comfortable and settled down. We were happy for the first few months of the relationship. Charles provided everything, and I maintained the house.
However, Charles had one major issue that I found difficult to deal with. He had a temper, and he took out his anger on him. He wasn’t violent but he would lash out randomly.
“The food is cold,” he said during one of his tantrums.
The comment caught me off guard since he always told me how much he loved my food. I didn’t respond because I had been in an abusive relationship and I knew if I argued with him, it would only make the situation worse.
I walked on eggshells around him to avoid saying or doing something that would trigger his tantrums. However, they were rare so I managed to handle them.
“At least he doesn’t beat me,” I said to my friend, who advised me to leave him.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
I knew Charles could never lay his hands on me. That man loved me too much to do it. However, his tantrums became frequent, and they started taking a toll on me. I went from being bubbly to being quiet around him. Everything I said was either met with opposition or ignored, so I started saying less. Eventually, I stopped talking to him, hoping that he would get the message.
He didn’t. In fact, he woke me up in the middle of the night and started a fight with me.
“I don’t feel like we’re compatible,” he said.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I think you should leave my house.”
I didn’t argue back or ask him to reconsider his decision. At that point, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and being away from him was probably for the best.
“Okay. I’ll leave in the morning.” I said, then left the bed and went to sleep on the couch.
In the morning, he left for work, and I packed my things and went back to my mother’s home. I cried nearly every night when I was at home. I don’t know whether it was because I missed Charles or missed the lifestyle he gave me.
However, I promised myself that I wouldn’t get back together with Charles. He had treated me so badly, probably because he knew I didn’t have any option but to stay with him. In fact, it took him by surprise when I didn’t beg him to stay after he kicked me out of his house.
However, staying at home felt more depressing than staying with Charles. I had been living in a luxurious apartment for four months, so adjusting back to life in the ghetto was a struggle.
After a month, I broke my promise and reached out to Charles.
“Hi, can I come and see you?” I asked him through WhatsApp.
“Sure. I hope you have been good. I missed you.”
After doing a celebration dance, I packed a few clothes and bid my mother goodbye.
I wasn’t planning on staying at Charles’ place for too long. I just wanted to rekindle our relationship, then try to take things slower since the first time we had rushed everything.
Our reunion was magical. It was evident that we both missed each other. I ended up staying at his place for a week before things took a left turn.
We were cuddling on the couch, watching Netflix, when he got a call. I didn’t think much of it, but when he came back, he was a different man.
“I’m talking to you and you’re not responding,” he barked.
“I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Pack your things and leave,” he barked again.
“It’s 10 pm.”
“There are Ubers outside. You can get one.”
“Why do you always do this?” I finally stood up for myself.
He was silent.
“I want you out of my house tomorrow morning,” he said, a bit calmer.
“Okay,” I responded nonchalantly.
It was clear that the relationship had a huge imbalance, and Charles was taking advantage of it. However, I was sure that it wasn’t the right relationship for me, so I not only left his house but also his life and closed that door completely.
I cut off all communication with Charles and focused on improving my life instead of depending on a man to do it.
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