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It started very innocuously. We would be talking about something and she would deliberately hit me on the chest or slap me on the cheek and say something like, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that way.” She will be smiling or laughing as she says that. No matter how painful it felt, I would be forced to smile along and pretend it didn’t hurt. Our love was new and I didn’t think a girl would mean any harm by hitting you once in a while.

When I met her at first and I was trying my best to get her to notice me, she told me a story about her exes. None of them were pleasant. She told a story of one ex who brought another woman to the house while she was there and kissed the woman. When she complained, he and the woman ganged up and gave her the beatings of her life. That story got stuck in my brain. I was shocked and I was traumatized as to why a man would do that to a woman he loved. So I looked at my girlfriend and thought about those ugly moments she had gone through and told myself,” If there’s anything I would do to wipe those memories off her mind, I would go all out and do it just for her to feel loved again.

So she slapped my face and laughed and I also laughed along. She would pull my ears till it hurts, but I wouldn’t complain because she did it while laughing and even apologized to me when I complained that it hurt. She would pull my skin and give me blisters. She would say, “Your skin is too soft for a man. Just this little pull and you’re hurt?” Nothing was serious. Everything was considered as an act of love.

One evening I went out with her and came back to her house. It was her idea that I sleep in her room so I leave the next morning. She said, “It’s late. I don’t want to be lonely here so stick around.” I was peacefully asleep when a slap suddenly went off my face. I woke up suddenly with my cheeks buried in my palm. I asked, “What? What did I do?” She said, “You’re farting and I know you’re doing it intentionally. If you can’t keep your bottom shut, the door is not locked. Just leave.”

I looked at the time and it was 1am. I picked my shirt and started walking away. I was so angry and hurt but I thought she would stop me and say sorry but she didn’t. I walked through the dark until I got a taxi home. When I was leaving I said to myself, “This is the last time she would see me. It’s over.” The next morning, she was in my house with a smiling face. She said, “I was only playing with you and you took it seriously? I thought you were joking when you picked your shirt.” She gave me a peck on the cheeks and I forgot all the hurt. I said, “Your hands are heavy and it hurts when you hit me like that. Stop it before you hurt me.” She said, “It would never happen again.” I said, “It better not because I’m getting tired.”

We were back to our loving ways.

I was sitting next to her in a trotro, chatting and laughing when a call came through on my phone. I picked and started talking. Each second she chuckled and made faces while I continued talking. The next thing I knew, she had snatched the phone off my ears and thrown it on the floor of the trotro. She started screaming; “Is the person you’re talking to more important than I am? Can’t you tell the person you’re with someone so you would call later?” Everybody turned and started looking our way. I only smiled and said, “Everywhere we go, you’ll bring this kind of jokes there and later laugh at me.”

I was so embarrassed but I was trying to make light of the situation so on-lookers would know she was just playing. Someone picked my phone and gave it to me. She said, “If you two are joking then it’s not funny.” She retorted, “Madam who has asked you to laugh at our jokes?” Another give and take ensued until we alighted at the junction toward my house. I told her, “You’re not going home with me and you’re never going to see me again. I’m sick and tired of all these. Go your way and let me go my way.”

Then her voice went ten pitches lower; “I said I’m sorry. You know I’m in my menses and this thing gets me feeling frustrated and all. Just stop overreacting and instead sympathize with my situation. Why don’t you men see it when a woman is going through emotional stress?” She followed me to the house, made herself comfortable, and spent the rest of the day talking and laughing with my mother. My mother liked her a lot because she was always laughing and got along fine with everyone. The way she would bow and talk to even someone younger, you wouldn’t suspect she’s capable of all those silly things.

I forgave her. She said, “You’re the only one who can handle me at my worse, that’s why I love you so much. Please continue being the man I’ve always known. Don’t change.” I told her my mind and pleaded with her to stop being rowdy. I told her to talk about her worries with me; “Whatever you’re going through, I’m your boyfriend. Let’s talk about it before it pushes you to do those things.”

Not too long afterward, a friend of mine had his wedding and she attended the wedding with me. A lot of our mates were there and I knew what she could do so I tried as much as possible not to talk to anyone for too long to make her feel dejected. It was hard looking at the faces of old friends and not being able to blend and joke with them. I tried. All through the wedding, she was by my side and I never moved an inch where she wasn’t following.

Wedding over. We were all exchanging goodbyes and talking about the next time we would meet. Philippa walked up to me and we started talking. That was when my girlfriend moved a little away from me. A few minutes later, I told Philippa I had to go and she asked for my contact. Just when I started mentioning my contact, this girl rushed toward me and pulled my hand with such force that nearly caused me to lose my balance. Again, everyone around was shocked. I looked at Philippa’s face and her mouth was wide open. In the car going home, this girl wouldn’t stop talking and berating me.

When we got home, I tried saying a word and all I heard was bam! Her purse has landed perfectly on my lips. It got swollen instantly. I sat with my mouth buried in my palm trying to make sense of what was happening. That day I nearly hit back. My hands were shaking and my heart was beating fast as she stood there ranting and calling me names. I left the room before something worse could happen.

I refused her calls for two days. She came home the next day. I locked my door and didn’t let her in. She fell on my mom to get me to open the door but I never did. The following day too she came around. That was when I gave her that final warning; “The next time I see you here in this house, you wouldn’t like what I would do to you. Don’t push me because I can do worse things.” For the whole week she kept calling and coming around, I didn’t mind her. One day she sent me a message; “You think you’re so important that I would keep chasing you around? Do you know how many men I’ve said no to because of you? Rich men. Businessmen. Stars. I won’t come after you again. Enjoy your miserable life.”

I breathed heavily and told myself, “It’s over. It is finally over!”

Regardless of everything she did and said to me, I still loved her. I gave her so many chances but she didn’t take them. It’s been eight months since I called off the relationship but once in a while, she passes by under the pretext of coming to say hi to my mother. She would spend hours with her while I go about my business. Sometimes she would call and tell me how she has regretted it and how she’s working on herself to be better and all that. She’ll end up saying, “I did all I did because I loved you and didn’t want to cede grounds for others to take. It’s too bad you didn’t see that.”

I tell her; “Giving someone you love swollen lips isn’t love. You were only pushing me to the point where I would retaliate so I would be the bad one. It’s good you’re working on yourself. It would help you a lot.” She was in my room yesterday when she came to see my mom and she didn’t meet her. She’s still asking for a comeback. I doubt I can ever trust her ability to stay sane.

Silentbeads