The story is centered around a young girl, who out of greed and discontentment lost a good man and relationship, and ended up paying with her life.
"I can't claim to love you when you keep on complaining about a particular thing over and over again, and I don't do anything about it." These were the words of my boyfriend, now ex, when we had a heated argument. He never really liked to talk things out, so I had to complain about it. I made it a point of duty to always tell him about guys who made sexual and relationship advances toward me.
He didn't fail to remind me of how bad their intentions toward me were. He made sure to remind me that they all had ulterior motives toward me.
I was always quick to defend myself and tell him how prepared I was to avoid them at all costs. We had a close to perfect relationship. We were all of it: friends, lovers, partners, siblings. He adored me; he admired me. He always reminded me how much of a blessing I was to him. I felt the same way he did. I was willing to intentionally commit to him and the relationship. We made plans for the future. We have already started a joint business. It was all his idea, and I loved them all.
Unfortunately for me, I derailed. I let myself be fooled by other guys. I cheated on my near-perfect relationship. I left my all-around nice boyfriend for the wolves in sheep's clothing. I actually thought I was doing the right thing. When my boyfriend found out about my actions, he summoned me and asked me one question "is this really what you want?" and I said yes! He then said he wasn't going to contact me again, and I shouldn't expect to ever see him again. I was not bothered at that point because I felt I didn't have any need for his presence in my life. I was done with him.
Fast forward to two years later, I was lying sick in the hospital bed. I went from being a decent girl to being a sex addict/worker and an alcoholic. In my dying bed, I remembered when my ex-boyfriend usually told me how he wouldn't beg or feel bad if I ever left him for my own reason. He said as long as he wasn't the cause, he wouldn't bother mourning my loss. I smiled whilst on my death bed, reminiscing on how I left a good and near-perfect relationship because of greed and discontentment. The men I followed afterward saw me as prey and really brought harm to me.
My ex-boyfriend kept his promise of not keeping in touch. So I wanted to see him one last time. I had to reach out to his friend, and somehow a meeting was arranged for me. The appointed day came, and I got notified that he was at the hospital reception. I told them to let him in. As he approached my room, I began reminiscing about the beautiful memories I shared with him. It was all beautiful and indeed memorable. I remembered times when he went out of his way to make me comfortable and treat me like a queen. At that point, I realized the depth of my mistake. I wondered how foolish and stupid I was to let go of a good man and beautiful relationship.
My thoughts were cut short by a knock I heard. I snapped out of my memory lane. He came in after he knocked and stared at me while standing at the entrance. I looked at him, smiled, and whispered, "I'm sorry for everything I did to you, and thank you for genuinely loving me and teaching me how to love." The last thing I remember was seeing myself lying lifeless on the bed.
Maybe I went to meet my maker; maybe I went to meet my doom. Whatever the case, maybe, one thing is certain I owed my ex-boyfriend death; he was the only one allowed to kill me.