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In 2022, I resigned from my job after nearly two decades. Though I say resigned, it wasn’t truly voluntary. I was pressured out. The city grind had worn me down. Long commutes, a job that drained me, and a life that felt like it was slipping through my fingers. I felt a deep sense of relief but also a wave of worry. How would I pay the bills? How would I hold together the family I started 13 years ago?
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The truth is, I hadn’t been happy for a long time. For nearly five years before I left that job, I felt invisible. Unappreciated. Unaccepted. Unloved. I had no one to talk to, no one to hang out with. I came straight home from work every day, did the chores, brought gifts, paid school fees, and tried to anticipate what my wife might want. I gave what I could. But it was never enough. My emotional needs were either ignored or met with resistance. I spoke up. I asked. I tried. Nothing changed.
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So I left the city. Not for good, just for five days. I needed space to breathe, to think, to heal. I drove to my village, where only the elders remained. I planned to walk the roadside, meet a few strangers, and blend in quietly. I wasn’t looking for anything dramatic. Just a moment of peace.
And then I met her.
She was a petite nursing student, walking back from school, lost in thought. I greeted her, hoping for a simple acknowledgement. She stopped and smiled. She spoke to me. In that moment, I felt seen. Not romantically. This wasn’t about desire. It was about connection. Her presence was gentle. Her company was so warm, and our conversation was effortless. For the first time in a long while, I felt heard. I felt human again.
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Those five days in the village healed me in ways I didn’t know I needed. I laughed. I listened. I remembered who I was before the pressure, before the silence, before the loneliness.
Kafui, if you ever come across this post, know that you healed a broken man. Your kindness stitched together the pieces of a battered ego and reminded me that I still mattered. Your future husband is blessed beyond measure.
So long, dear friend. From a grateful heart.
—KB
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