By Kelechi Udoagwu
“When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want.
What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?”
— Bukowski
I am up at 2am, sipping tea and writing this article. Why? Because I dozed off at 9pm and now can’t sleep.
I’m home alone, but instead of tossing and turning or counting sheep to sleep, I’ve turned on a light, grabbed my iPad, and am now writing about my singledom that began this year, even though I wasn’t aware of it.
The Beginning
In January, I was celebrating in Dubai with my fiancé. We traveled from there to the UK and back to Accra. Maybe it was the switch from cool to cold to hot weather or the fact that we spent more time together in three weeks than ever before, but something went off, and we started to disagree about everything: big things, small things, and irrelevant things. We argued about Princess Meghan and Prince Harry moving to Canada!
Before this holiday, we had been in a close-long-distance relationship for nearly 18 months. He’d met my family, and I’d met his folks. Our countries are 45 minutes apart by flight, so it never felt like a long-distance relationship. Most weekends were spent at mine or his, and we were easy-going and happy until January.
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The Change
By the time our plane touched down in Accra, our relationship was so strained that we walked out of the airport without hugging or kissing each other goodbye. In retrospect, we had no idea we wouldn’t see each other until the end of the year.
Separated by the pandemic and closed international borders, we alternated between talking things out and ignoring each other for days. At the beginning of the drift, I took the blame for everything. I’m younger and more adaptable, so I was always on the fix-it end, and I didn’t mind. I asked questions about what was wrong and why we couldn’t seem to enjoy each other’s company. But my questions made no difference, especially as he’d reply that nothing was wrong, which made me feel silly for asking.
Our relationship deteriorated, and I was always on edge and correcting my behavior. I apologized a lot (!) and tried to remain cheerful to get us to how we used to be. Knowing I had introduced him to my family made me work harder to fix the relationship.
The Truth
Finally, during a call one evening in May, he snapped and said, “The trip with you reminded me of life with my ex, and I don’t want to go back there.”
To say I was shocked and hurt would be an understatement. But I’d finally gotten the truth I’d been seeking. In that moment I knew what I had to do: move on without looking back.
I understand now that we were in a relationship but were never real friends. His competence at taking care of everything life, adulting, and planning drew me in, but emotionally, he’s unavailable and probably still wounded from his first marriage.
I have since taken off his ring and tucked it away. I’ve also worked hard these past months to get past the emotional haze and focus on business, family, life, and work, as usual. The pandemic and social distance have given me time to hide in solitude, cry whenever I felt hurt, and heal almost completely.
Now, I can truthfully say I look towards the future I’m building without my almost-husband.
Do I get lonely sometimes? Yes, I do.
Am I happy, though? Most of the time, yes.
To Bukowski’s question at the start, I’ll answer “freedom.”
Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash
