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Tag: heartbreak?

  • ‘Is it wrong to date someone who just experienced a heartbreak?’

    “I met this really exceptional lady 18 months ago.

    As at then, her boyfriend just broke up with her. According to her, she gave him her all including her virginity.

    We got along so well, and I assisted her in forgetting him gradually or so I thought.

    We became friends and gradually the bond grew stronger. We told each other anything and did everything together.

    Feelings and emotions came to place and of course, I asked her out.

    We started dating and she constantly reminds me not too love her too much, because she believes that she might hurt me.

    She happens to mean so much to me and I have decided to love her with no condition.

    Although, I am way older than her, she is a very young lady who believes that her dreams are major priority for her.

    She was so scared of commitment but I assured her that I am willing to stay no matter how long it would take.

    We have been fine and relationship has been smooth until recently, she became all aggressive and secretive.

    She avoided receiving calls in my presence and went as far as securing her phones.

    I got so worried and tried all I could to make her talk. I apologized to her in case I had done something I wasn’t conscious of.

    She was still moody, refused to pick my calls and asked me to stay away from her.

    I kept pushing hard, trying every means to reach her until finally she gave me a chance to talk to her.

    She told me that her ex is back and that her love for him is still sincere.

    She said that she already accepted him back and that I should please, forget about her.

    My feelings for her hasn’t changed a bit, before she accepted me, she told me how she had been trying to maintain balance in her previous relationship.

    She complained about how she was the only one showing all the love and care. She said the guy never created time for her and even goes as far as avoiding her calls.

    She told me how non challant the guy could be and how he makes her cry often.

    Read Also: ‘My wife apologises for my mistakes, it irritates me’

    Now, she has decided to go back to that cage. At this point, I am so confused.

    I really don’t know what to do or say. I love her and I don’t want to lose her.

    Was it a mistake to have loved someone who recently had heartbreak?

    Was I wrong to have loved her with all of my heart and mind?

    How do I tell her that the guy is no good for her?

    How do I make her realize that she deserves better? Much more better in fact?

    How do I sleep knowing that she is not happy?

    How do I make myself unlove her?”

     

     

    You can also share your story with us @info@thenationonlineng.net

  • HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [CONCLUDING PART]

    HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [CONCLUDING PART]

    It is 3:30am in the early hours of the morning. The cock is yet to be astir to herald the dawning of a new day. Silence seemed so loud, and the only company Amarachi had was the chirping of crickets, and the “tick tack” rhythmic sounds from the humongous wooden clock that hung on the wall of their living room. Her eyes were heavy and deluged with bags and intermittent downing of tears; her entire being was overwhelmed with sordid emotions.

    Ping! Ping!! Ping!!! Femi’s Blackberry phone buzzed with pings from Amarachi. “Where did this Yoruba boy drop his phone?” she said with a slightly worried and contoured face. “Only God knows what he is doing at the moment? He might as well be with a girl, or is he drunk again with his friends…, wait a minute, hope he is not in trouble?” Amarachi’s mind paced back and forth with very squalid thoughts of what her “partner” Femi might be up to.

    While Femi was chasing and wooing her, he did not have to overstretch his luck and masculine prowess to win the primed and already vulnerable heart of Amarachi. Femi didn’t only look or talk the part, he also “acted” the part; he sent her gifts, took her to beautiful and exotic places; their lifestyle seemed so perfect that anytime they went out, ladies all around would go green with envy – wishing they were in Amarachi’s shoes. As the saying goes, “only the wearer of a shoe knows where it pinches”, looks can be very deceptive.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART ONE]

    If the envious ladies had been more discerning to look closely at the corner eye of Amarachi which was covered with a dark shade of fancy spectacles, they would have noticed her left eye was black; one that Femi so graciously brandished with constant battery, bludgeoning and pummelling. Maybe then, they would not have admired but pitied her condition.

    During the early days of their relationship, she had noticed quite a few unsettling behaviours that Femi would usually display. He would call her obnoxious and derogatory names, hit her slightly in the head when he is upset with her, and would hang out with different ladies at different times at night clubs and beer parlours. Because of her desperate need and fixation for a “father figure”, affirmation, and validation she stuck with him, in the hope that she would change him one day.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART TWO]

    Now, it is 3:30am in the early hours of the morning. The cock is yet to be astir to herald the dawning of a new day. Silence seemed so loud, and the only company Amarachi had was the chirping of crickets, and the “tick tack” rhythmic sounds from the humongous wooden clock hanging on the wall of their living room. Her eyes were heavy and deluged with intermittent downing of tears; her entire being was overwhelmed with sordid emotions. It seemed like history was about to repeat itself because her mother went through a similar ordeal in the hands of her dad. The only difference was that she wasn’t married to Femi yet, but they were already cohabiting.

    Being in a relationship with Femi didn’t complete her because she still felt the void from two years earlier when her parents’ marriage of over twenty years dissolved like a melting ice. There is still a hole in her soul that wouldn’t heal.

    Knock! Knock!! Knock!!! “Would you come and open this door for me this minute before I break you with the door?” Femi said. He was outside wallowing in the cesspool of his vomit; he had gone clubbing with his cronies and had gotten himself drunk again. This seems to be the new normal for Femi. Amarachi rushed to the door, her fragile hands were shaky and wobbly because she did not know what to expect after she opens the door. As she summoned the courage to unlock the door, Femi bashed into the house very angrily, irrational, and unsteady because of the excessive alcohol he had drowned his system with.

    “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day…hmmm…ahhhh…” Femi sang as he staggered and took a giddy posturing. “Woman, how dare you lock me outside? I will deal mercilessly with you!” Before Amarachi could explain and calm him down, he launched out his already positioned hand and landed a debilitating slap on her already battered face. She fell to the ground, stood up and ran for dear life. He threw his half empty bottle of vodka at her but missed as she pranced and traversed all the corners of the living room. As she ran up the stairs, Femi ran after her; he grabbed her so tightly that she could hardly breathe, and as she struggled with him on the stairs she inadvertently pushed him just to free herself from his bestial clamp. Nooo…she screamed and watched as Femi rolled and desultorily fell down the stairs. SHE SCREAMED…SOME BODY HELP ME!!!

    Whether you find yourself in the position of Amarachi or Femi, or neither of the two, it is very important to understand that the coming together or joining of hearts is not meant for two unstable and emotionally infantile individuals.

    “Hurting people” hurt people.

    A romantic relationship will not cure your inordinate cravings and addictions; neither will it fill the emotional void you constantly feel as a result of trauma or neglect. You cannot steer the ship of your relationship successfully having the wrong notions, mind-sets, and unrealistic expectations.

    Looks can be very deceptive. They say not all that glitter is gold, however, as an addendum, not all that is gold is good for you! This might be the singular determinant of whether your life will be a worthy example or a complete disaster. If you feel lost and vulnerable, please don’t suffer in silence, talk to somebody, preferably a counselor.

    If you are going through domestic violence or know someone who needs help, please can contact the appropriate agency of government.

     

    By Moses Emorinken

    Email: brandphase@yahoo.com

    Twitter: @memorinken

    Instagram: @memorinken

  • HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART TWO]

    HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART TWO]

    In pretence, he would gloat with his shoulders raised high in the presence of his goons. However, deep within him was the ensnared little man in manacles and chains of addictions; crying for help. The heaps of adulations from his friends were millstones and burdens weighing heavy on his soul. He felt lost, empty, finished and dry.

    Fast forward into the seminar hall where she is conveniently seated with other participants and of course, the charmer – “Mr Femi”.

    Femi, on the other hand just could not help himself because the innocent-looking, gregarious, and adorable Amarachi had caught his fancy. His mind was so busy with thoughts and plots to win her heart that he unconsciously voiced the words – “I must get her!”. The person seated next to him quickly turned to Femi’s direction and shook is head…he must have muttered – “i am so sorry for you”. Femi quickly comported himself and at least pretended to be listening to the facilitator.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART ONE]

    Now Femi hasn’t always been a serial womaniser, in fact, he was a well brought up and cultured young man from a well-to-do family. He was an only son amongst three female siblings who were always in the boarding school. His early childhood was not so different from an average child that lives in Lagos. He played on the streets under the sun and in the rain, enjoyed comic books and videos games, displayed some caricature Jackie Chan moves after watching one of the classic movies, and hated to have his bath twice daily; he did what boys his age would normally do.

    However, his days of innocence were coming to an end rather too early at the age of 11 when his entrepreneur dad and banker mom decided to employ Edidiong as a house help. As part of her chores, she was responsible for tending to Femi – from feeding, bathing, down to bringing him from school daily. Femi hardly saw his parents even on weekends. They are usually out of the house before he’s astir in the morning and arrived very late at night when he’s already asleep. He’s always in the company and tutelage of the housemaid who cared less about him, save for her monthly emolument.

    One very unfortunate day, the unexpected happened to Femi. “Femi come here”, Edidiong said with her airy-low voice. She took him to her room, turned the key twice in a clockwise direction to lock the door, and closed the window blinds.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [CONCLUDING PART]

    Femi stood transfixed in the centre of the room not having the slightest idea or premonition of what was about to go down. Aunty Edidiong, he said. What are you doing? Why are you locking the door and windows? She walked slowly towards him, drew him close to herself and said “let me show you something!” That was the beginning of the end of the affable and morally cultured Femi. She abused him sexually and threatened to take his life should he report the incident to anyone, especially his parents.

    Edidiong stayed with his family as their housemaid for another seven years. These years were a gestation period into sexual addiction and inordinate foray for Femi. His mind and body had been re-engineered, reconditioned and tampered with by the housemaid so much so that his profligacy and womanising tendencies had reached astronomical proportions before he was 18 years old.

    Now Femi is 29, every night he reminisces about his life – the scores of relationships he had been in, the hearts he had broken and other “touching” stories better left untold. He sheds tears sometimes because he knows that he could be a better man and live a better life instead of the bestial adventure that reeks from his being.

    Femi is the happening guy, the man of the moment, the ladies man, the “oshomo one” of Nigeria etc. These are some of the alias and praise names his friends would usually heap upon him. In pretence, he would gloat with his shoulders raised high in the presence of his cohorts. However, deep within him was the ensnared little man in manacles and chains of addictions; crying for help. The heaps of adulations from his friends were literally millstones and burdens weighing heavy on his soul. He felt lost, empty, finished, and dry.

    Now the program was over and Amarachi had packed her seminar materials and was heading for the bus stop when Femi quickly drove his Mercedes-Benz C-Class beside her, wind down his side window and offered to give her a lift. Please milady, can i give you a ride?

    Watch out for the concluding part…

    By Moses Emorinken

    Email: brandphase@yahoo.com

    Twitter: @memorinken

    Instagram: @memorinken

  • HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART ONE]

    HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART ONE]

    With her head pressed tightly against her pillow, shedding warm tears that literally deluged her pillow, she cried all night, engaged in a pity party; asking God why her parents would call it quits – a once blissful marriage. She now feels a void, one that needs to be filled urgently before she loses her mind; she feels empty, finished and dry.

    First, it was an introduction; a seemingly harmless remark of “how are you?…my name is Femi!”. In response, she gives a restrained and innocuous smile out of courtesy, and tries to add the formal appellation of “Mr…” before returning the pleasantry. But quickly, like a predator that stealthily and hastily latches onto its unsuspecting prey, he interrupts and says – “please simply call me Femi.” She holds back her smile again and said…“ok then, Femi…it’s nice meeting you!”

    The breakout session was over, and everyone was required to congregate back as an audience and maintain their sitting arrangement. She politely excused herself and went to have a seat. From the corner of her eye she could see Femi…sorry, Mr Femi, staring at her; his head tilted almost permanently towards her direction.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [PART TWO]

    Femi was seated four seats before her (on the same row). She could hardly concentrate on the topic being discussed by the facilitator; all she could think about was how brazenly smart and articulate he was during her first encounter with him. Femi is the quintessential ladies’ dream-guy; he had the built (tall and sturdy) that most ladies delight in, skin tone that resonates between fair and chocolate, a baritone voice that literally reverberates and echoes in the receptacles your subconscious minutes after he has spoken, a clean low-cut with a well-trimmed goatee.

    Taking a cursory dive into a “not too distant past” of Amarachi (yes, that’s her name), say a year ago, you would see her pressing her head tightly against her pillow, shedding warm tears that literally deluged her pillow. She cried all night, and engaged in a pity party; asking God why her parents would call it quits – a once blissful marriage.

    Read also: HEARTS…a story of love, heartbreak and life [CONCLUDING PART]

    She just turned twenty one, and was returning home after the completion of her one-year compulsory National Youth Service Corps (N.Y.S.C) program to her fatherland. Her steps were literally prancing, springing and pouncing as she drew close to her family house; in fact, she was barely six feet away from the gate when she raced into the house hoping to receive an overwhelming shower of love and warm embrace from her dad and mom; she is an only child.

    Her infantile excitement quickly turned sour and sore as she beheld an abusive scene of her father bludgeoning and pummeling down on her mom; his big fist tightly clenched and dashing out unrestrained blows on her. She quickly rushed to separate the duo before her father gives a KO (Knockout).

    He had a brutal and bestial deportment and demeanour; a side of him she had never seen before. Her mother laid on the tiled floor drenched in tears, sweat, and something that looked like blood…Oh no…it was her blood. The situation was critical, but thanks to the swift response from the state ambulance service unit, her mom was rushed to the hospital and was operated on quickly. After two weeks she was out of the hospital.

    Ever since that unfortunate incident, her once congenial and loving family had morphed into a house of commotion…heck!, a house of conundrum and confusion. Every day in the house was like a typical sad and depressing scenery from a classic tragedy movie…an unending saga of bitter and tempestuous relationship between her parents.

    The last straw that broke the camel’s back was when her mother filed for a divorce, and her dad in his usual egoistic machismo bragged about his foray into adultery and how he regrets ever laying eyes on his wife.

    Now they are divorced. Amarachi shuttles incommodiously between her mother’s newly rented apartment and her father’s house. She lays flat on the bed, her eyes looking up at the ceiling; her thoughts receding to the good times they once had as a family; like a transient smoke that quickly disappears into thin air, those times have become nothing more than empty memories…forever buried in the annals of history…her history!

    With her head pressing tightly against her pillow, shedding warm tears that literally deluged her pillow, she cried all night, and engaged in a pity party; asking God why her parents would call it quits – a once blissful marriage. She now feels a void, one that needs to be filled urgently before she loses her mind; she feels empty, finished, and dry.

    Fast forward into the seminar hall where she is conveniently seated with other participants, and of course, the charmer – “Mr Femi”.

    To be continued!

    By Moses Emorinken

    Email: brandphase@yahoo.com

    Twitter: @memorinken

    Instagram: @memorinken

  • How can I get over my heartbreak?

    How can I get over my heartbreak?

     

    Dear Aunty Adeola,

    Thank god for your column. It has taught me many things about life. I need your help now about how to heal after my boyfriend of 5 years dumped me for another girl. I still love him but I have enough pride to go and beg when I know he’s always with this new girl. I want to put him behind me but I don’t know how to go about it. Please tell me what to do. – Irene.

    Dear Irene, I’m glad that you have a lot of dignity and you’re smart enough to know that there’s no point is trying to get this guy’s attention now that he’s drunk with the affection he must be feeling for this new person in his life. I know it can feel like the end of the world when you’re losing the love of your life. Heartbreak can feel equally devastating when you thought you’d found your soul mate. You may feel deeply upset, bleak and rejected. It’s a truly awful time. There are few experiences in life that are more hideously painful than having your heart broken. And it can happen at any age. But the happy fact is that most people not only get over heartbreak, but they go on to love again.

    Your broken heart will heal. Yes, it won’t be so easy, but if you give yourself time, your heart will sing a new song soon, but you must let go of this guy completely as you desire. Below are tips on how to mend a broken heart:

    Get someone to look after you

    If the break-up comes out of the blue, you’ll be in a state of shock. You certainly won’t be thinking straight, and you’ll probably have physical symptoms such as insomnia and weeping, or you may feel completely numb. Don’t try to struggle through this alone: get someone to look after you. If need be, arrange a few days off work.

    Treat yourself with care

    In the weeks after a split it’s normal to feel as though you are physically ill. So try to treat yourself with the care you would if you were recovering from an illness.

    Get plenty of rest. Have scented baths. Tempt yourself with healthy, delicious foods. Maybe buy some luxury fleecy pyjamas and a furry hot water bottle cover. This is a time when you need to indulge and comfort yourself.

    List 50 good things about you

    When your heart is broken, it’s easy to feel that you are to blame and that you are worthless. These feelings contribute to you feeling really wretched. So it would help if you could remind yourself of just how great you are.

    Write a list of 50 things that are good and worthwhile about you. Once you’ve completed the list, add one more thing to it every day. This will help to improve your self-esteem, which has doubtless taken a knock.

    Talk things through

    Now is the time you need your confidants to listen while you go over and over what has happened. As you talk things out, the worst of your feelings will gradually lose their hold on you. Your friends will probably be very available to you in the early days. And some may even listen if you ring them at three in the morning. You’d do the same for them – wouldn’t you?

    List bad things about your ex

    When we’re heartbroken, we tend to dwell on all the perfect times we spent with our ex.

    But, to get over him or her, you need to start seeing things more realistically. Maybe he was controlling or boring when he’d had too much to drink. Perhaps she was too possessive or had a family who kept interfering in your lives.

    Make a list of everything that was bad and that you don’t miss. Put this list somewhere prominent, like on the fridge. Add to it every time you think of something new – which may well be often!

    Hide photos

    Some people are so angry they destroy all photos of their ex and cut him or her out of any shots of them together. Certainly, it isn’t helpful to keep seeing images of your beloved. But you may one day regret destroying all photos from this time in your life.

    Instead, collect up all photographs and put them in the loft or give them to your friend or mum for safekeeping until you’re sure you know what you want to do with them.

    Don’t try to be friends

    Your ex may have suggested you keep on seeing each other as mates. But this is something the person who wants out usually suggests to the partner being rejected, and is far more about the dumper’s guilt than real friendship.

    It will not help you to try to be friends – at least not initially. Having contact with each other when the break is still recent just prolongs the agony. Every time your ex says something nice to you, you will interpret it as meaning that the relationship can be rekindled. Don’t do it.

    Never have sex with your ex

    There may come a time when your ex comes round to see your children or to sort out some belongings.

    You’ll get talking, and you may even crack open a bottle of wine. At this point it is all too easy to find yourself hugging and kissing – and heading for the bedroom.

    Unfortunately, having sex will only confuse and upset you further, especially if your ex leaves immediately afterwards, which is very likely indeed.