I Dated My Enemy II

If you’re here, I believe you’re from part one, and if you’re not, you should probably not start from here. Head over to part one because you need to read that to understand this. Now, kicking off from where we left off:

We hung out one last time before we both went home for the session’s break, and from day one of the holiday, we were a mess. It had to be the worst phase of our relationship; it made sense because that was the last—our relationship was coming to an end. Like I said before, something in me had a hint that the last time we hung out was going to be our last. It just felt like it, and I remember saying it silently but plainly to myself that it was the last time we were going to be together like that.

On the day of our last paper, I woke up emotional, not just because of him but because of what that moment signified for me. I was going from 100 to 200 level and he was going to change his department (we were coursemates).

The course I’m studying is one many would regard as useless in my country. Most of the people who end up studying it didn’t make it their first choice; it’s usually Law, and he was one of those people. He was so loud about his opinion on my course being useless—of everybody I knew, he was the loudest. Being forced to study a course he considered useless was one of his sources of frustration that he once again took out on me.

I once asked him what he thought we’d be like if he started off from Law; he answered by saying that there was a bigger chance that we probably wouldn’t even know each other, and besides, he’d look at me like “Who’s this Pol Science girl,” like it was supposed to be demeaning. Mind you, this was the same guy who borrowed money from me without paying back, borrowed money again from other people also without paying back, was out getting loans from apps, and asked me to cook for him because his mom hadn’t sent him his allowance. But because I was just one Pol Science girl and he was on his way to get a professional degree, I was obviously not on his level.

That morning, before our last paper, I wrote him a message with teary eyes acknowledging that our dynamics were going to change and neither of us knew what our 200 level would look like.

During the holiday, amidst our messy relationship dynamics, he got the course he wanted, and I was obviously happy for him.

On one of the days during that same holiday, I was out and came across a tweet that went a bit like this: “I wonder whose stories we’ve been villains in,” and a question came up in my head: “If my life was a story and my boyfriend had a role, would he be a villain or a hero?” I very easily answered that he was a villain. It was a no-brainer. From the moment he came into my life, I couldn’t account for one good thing that he did, but the bad? I had a running list.

My so-called boyfriend, with an obviously inflated self-esteem, set standards for me which he himself did not meet. According to him, I had no fashion sense, so he took it upon himself to overly criticize everything I wore. He’d tell me that trousers didn’t suit me and made a rule that if he saw me wearing them in public, he’d pretend like he didn’t know me. He also told me one time that he was so unimpressed with what I wore that he couldn’t even look at me twice. Mind you, this same guy rotated four shirts. If he didn’t wear the white one, it would be the black one; if it wasn’t that, it would be the blue one; and I guess he’d wear the multi-colored one when he was feeling funky. He’d spice his four shirts up sometimes with one of his two vests, and he wore all of these with his slides. That was his corporate wardrobe. For his casual wear, he had two jersey-like tops—one blue one, and I believe the other had some red on it. If it wasn’t one, it was the other.

I remember meeting up with him one time and he was wearing the exact same thing he wore the day before. It even seemed like he didn’t bathe since then, but I never said it or tried to change him.

He had also told me that I lacked vision and hence, he couldn’t work with me. For more context, I had just turned 18 around that time and was a bit confused about my career path, but I had made a plan which I shared with him, and that was his response. This was the same guy who was in debt and would later ask me for money and never pay back.

He did many other things that I just can’t share for the sake of discretion, and I don’t want this to get too long.

After my short contemplation, I realized that I didn’t like him. Yes, I loved him, but if you took the romantic feelings away, I wouldn’t like him. How would anyone expect me to? At that moment, I also realized that if he was to be from either God or the devil, he’d evidently be from the devil, because whose agenda was he promoting? This led me to save his number as “Devil’s Agent” somewhere along the line.

So there I was, dating my enemy—one of the biggest things Christians pray against.

Now, why didn’t I just leave? I stayed so long because I felt like I had given and sacrificed so much for the sake of our relationship and couldn’t just watch it fail without getting anything in return. I believed we had gone so far already, but that mentality was harmful. Anybody is allowed to start and restart no matter how far gone they feel. I had broken up with him a million times, but we would always get back together eventually. The 11 months of our relationship was held by a string of deception. I’d come across videos on toxic relationships that would describe our situation, but I’d always believe our case was different—he was clearly only acting that way because he was going through a lot. But one day, that string of deception was cut and I finally accepted the truth of our situation.

Looking back on the moment of our final breakup, I always say that I don’t know who prayed for me. God Himself probably had enough of seeing me in that situation and said, “Let’s just help this girl.” One day, I accepted that the relationship was toxic and asked for some space; the next day was when I sent the breakup message. I wanted to do it in person because that seemed more proper, but I woke up to him posting another girl on his status when he never posted me—even on my birthday—and even barely sent me a message. That was it for me, and I ended it. He didn’t panic like he normally would but barely responded to it, which was even God’s mercy because it allowed me to move on. It was three months after the breakup when he tried to come back, but I was already too far gone to let him back in.

This guy tried to come back despite all he did after the breakup. I found out he cheated on me with multiple people and dragged my name in the mud in the process. He’d tell them that I was dating myself and forcing myself on him. This was similar to what he said when I asked him to explain the friendship he had with a girl back in first semester. He said things like she was forcing herself on him and he wasn’t feeling her. Everything I thought about him was a lie. He wasn’t the heartbroken lover boy that he presented himself to be; he was a serial cheater all along. When he found out I knew about his escapades, he said that he didn’t care whatever I heard and should stop bothering him. And he still came back.

Moving from the relationship was quicker than I expected. I lost feelings for him really fast, but I was left with resentment. When the relationship ended, my confidence skyrocketed. My life is evidently better without him, and when I saw that, there was no way I was letting him back in. He reached out twice trying to get back together and even wished me on my birthday (something he couldn’t do when we were still together).

Recently, I heard he’s dating someone new and treating her well, which makes people question if he really liked me. I’ve been involved with people since our breakup, so I don’t care that there’s a new girl in his life, but I hated the agenda people set with it. “He’s treating this girl fine; are you sure he really liked her?” felt like they were reducing the cause of the evil I went through simply because I wasn’t the one he liked. The evil I experienced can’t be that simplified. Do these people understand that I was somewhere minding my business when he came along? Or that I pushed him away and he persisted? Or that he even came back? Or that he was even good at the beginning? Do they understand that this same guy wrote me a paragraph saying that he was so glad he was the one I fell in love with because he knew that I had an open heart and if I was to fall for the wrong guy, he’d take advantage of me? Do they know that he wrote this while doing the same evil he was talking about?

It’s like saying, “If she was likable enough, he would have been nice.” You can’t reduce everything like that; it’s not that simple. I hated it because the agenda painted me like I was the loser, because what exactly did I lose?

One morning— I don’t want to say coincidentally—my friend sent me a picture of us during our matric and said that the hairstyle I had in it looked so good on me, and I remembered that it was that same hairstyle he said made me look like a mad person. In that moment, I came to accept that he hated me. Because why did he hate the same things people liked about me? It was the same things that I’d receive compliments for that he’d pull me down with. But I had a genuine question: Why did he hate me? I just wanted to know at that point because I couldn’t deny anymore that he did. I resisted the urge to ask ChatGPT because it shouldn’t be used for soul issues, so I asked God instead, and the answer came: “Because he hated himself.”

I understood that people treat us as extensions of themselves and it would take a level of consciousness and intentionality for someone not to rub their insecurities off on you.

In that moment also, I felt the love of God. I saw that He didn’t like those moments where His daughter would cry because one guy was giving her the hate that he felt for himself. I saw myself from the perspective of someone who was loved by God, and in that moment I just didn’t care. I didn’t care about the agenda, I didn’t care if he had a new girl and was treating her right, I didn’t care if he continued the cycle he started with his exes, because I felt secure. I knew what I went through, and I knew why I left, and I knew God loved me and was on my side. I handed everything off to God because in His wisdom, He’ll handle it.

I’m still sticking with my plan of staying off dating because I acknowledge that I didn’t leave this situation whole. I know it took a toll on my security and learning to separate how people treat me from how much I’m worth. The security I need isn’t what’s found with external things; it’s the one that comes with the love of God. It’s what I experienced in that moment, but this time, I don’t want it to be fleeting—I need to stay and constantly walk in it.

This brings us to the end of this story. I’m so glad that there was no need for a part 3 😂 because I didn’t desire this story to take up so much space. If I had a choice, this story would be the last on anything about love but there might be one more 👀 and maybe after we could give it a close and focus on more serious issues 😂