Take This Serious: If You Had To Pick Between A Church Boy And The Devil, Please Pick The Devil

in the midst of college life, I crossed paths with Kofi on a serendipitous Sunday morning. Both en route to the same church, our encounter began when I struggled with my belongings, including my two-year-old nephew and a heavy handbag. Kofi, a kind-hearted soul, readily offered to carry my bag, sparking a conversation that ignited a lasting friendship. From that day forward, our Sundays became synonymous with meaningful conversations and cherished companionship within the church’s sacred walls.

As time passed, our friendship deepened, and I found myself growing fond of Kofi. His captivating personality and genuine interest in my life effortlessly drew me closer to him. Conversations flowed effortlessly, creating an atmosphere of comfort and ease. The bond we shared grew stronger with each passing Sunday.

One fateful Sunday, I encountered Kofi once again, but this time I found myself alone. Our acquaintance had blossomed into something more profound, prompting us to sit beside each other that day. As Kofi opened up, revealing his inner thoughts and dreams, I couldn’t help but feel my own emotions intensify. It became apparent that my heart had found its way to his side.

Soon enough, Kofi mustered the courage to ask for my number, a request that thrilled me to the core. We delved into frequent phone conversations, where he bestowed upon me the endearing nickname “God’s favorite,” symbolizing the connection we shared. Our meetings extended beyond Sundays as we strolled through campus, engaging in captivating conversations. Lunchtime became an opportunity to share meals and deepen our bond further.

Although our friendship was platonic, our closeness did not go unnoticed by our friends. Inquisitive about the nature of our relationship, they probed us with questions, to which we would simply respond with laughter and deny any romantic involvement. It was true; Kofi had become my confidant, my rock, and the person I cherished deeply.

With the arrival of our final year in college, Kofi broached the subject of relationships. Curiosity sparked within me as he asked about my past experiences. With a wistful smile, I recounted a bittersweet tale of a once-happy relationship that had left me scarred. Kofi, ever the comforting presence, enveloped me in a warm embrace, assuring me that he would always treat me with love and respect.

Days later, Kofi, overflowing with sincerity, mustered the courage to ask me a life-altering question: he sought to be more than just friends. As I searched my heart, the answer became clear, and within a week, I embraced his request, commencing a beautiful journey as a couple.

The subsequent Sunday at church, our pastor called upon all couples for a special prayer. Together, Kofi and I stood, united in faith and love. His unwavering commitment and promises to always cherish and uplift me solidified the path we were walking together. Prayer became the cornerstone of our relationship, strengthening the bond we shared.

As Kofi resided closer to campus, he entrusted me with a spare key to his apartment, symbolizing the trust we had in one another. The joy of being with a man who genuinely cared for me enveloped my heart. I reciprocated his love by surprising him with homemade meals, leaving behind love notes expressing my affection. In return, Kofi showered me with an abundance of heartfelt messages, ensuring I felt loved and cherished. Though not financially affluent, he would occasionally take me out to dinner, showcasing his love and devotion.

Introductions to our respective families further solidified the depth of our connection. The fondness our families had for one another painted a promising picture of our future together. However, the winds of change soon blew, and with graduation came Kofi’s job offer in a distant town. The prospect of a long-distance relationship loomed before us, and while daunting, we vowed to make it work. Kofi handed me the key to his new abode, promising that what was his would always be mine.

Despite the physical distance, we strove to communicate regularly. Kofi maintained transparency about his salary, assuring me that I need only ask if I required anything. We even contemplated opening a joint bank account, a testament to our unwavering commitment. Video calls became our lifeline, bridging the physical gap between us. As time went on, Kofi began discussing marriage, filling my heart with hope and joy for the future we would build together. Love, it seemed, was on a steady course.

However, after six months, a dark cloud eclipsed our once-bright horizon. Kofi became increasingly busy, his availability dwindling, and our cherished video calls growing infrequent. Unease crept into my heart, whispering of another presence in his life. Overwhelmed by doubt, I finally confronted Kofi, asking if there was someone else. He vehemently denied it, attributing his absence to work-related stress and promising that things would improve.

Hopeful, I gave him time, but the situation only deteriorated. The unsettling feeling that someone else had entered his life grew stronger with each passing day. Desperate for answers, I made a bold decision to surprise him with a visit, praying that my suspicions would be proven wrong. With a heavy heart, I arrived at his doorstep, where undeniable signs of another woman greeted me. Love notes, similar to the ones he had once written for me, were scattered throughout his home.

As Kofi and his unexpected companion unlocked the door, shock rippled across their faces, swiftly replaced by anger. The woman launched into a tirade, hurling accusations at me, questioning how I had managed to enter their shared apartment. Yet, it was Kofi who intervened, spinning a web of lies about our past relationship and labeling me as an ex who refused to let go. To my dismay, he turned to me, his eyes devoid of compassion, and demanded my immediate departure. My heart shattered, and the realization struck that not only had Kofi broken my heart, but he had also callously abandoned me, leaving me stranded and vulnerable.

Through a stroke of luck, I managed to secure transportation back to my hometown, where I sought solace and refuge. The days that followed were spent in utter devastation, questioning the fleeting nature of love and how affection can transform into indifference. The profound connection we once shared had dissolved, leaving me to navigate the shards of a shattered trust.

Slowly, time worked its healing magic, and the wounds began to mend. While jesting that love belonged solely to the skies, I found solace in sharing my story with others who had endured similar heartbreaks. I became a source of comfort, assuring them that pain would eventually give way to renewed hope and serenity. In the darkest moments, it is crucial to remember that even when we feel abandoned, God’s presence remains steadfast, offering unwavering strength.

Although my trust in love had been tested, the embers of belief still flickered within my heart. As time progresses, I hope to share a positive update on love, revealing that it can bloom even after the most devastating storms.