Until My Last Breath: A True Story of Love, Sacrifice, and a Devotion That Wouldn’t Die by Jeffery Opoku - HTML preview

Chapter Six

The Hexagonal Pyramidal

For nearly three weeks, I would open my laptop and just stare at the screen. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t think. I was traumatized. I had built my whole life around her; she was my only friend, my companion, and peace.

I finished my dissertation by God’s grace, but my graduation day, which should have been my happiest, was one of my saddest. She wasn’t there. Some mutual friends did ask of her. I gave polite excuses. I went to bed with my pillow soaked in tears. I broke even more.

I fought my family harder. I screamed to the heavens, “How could My Mother do this to My Mother?”

Though she said she was leaving, I still held on. We kept in limited contact, and deep down, I hoped a faint light would shine that might lead her to reconsider her decision. In the few conversations we had, she would often say things like, "Go out, talk to people, meet someone new." She emphasized that a lot. But I always told her, "No, I don’t want anyone else. It’s you I love. There were

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moments I gently asked if she had started seeing someone, and she’d respond that she wasn’t obliged to share that kind of information with me. Still, not long after, I picked up clear signs that she was already in a new relationship. She had started going out with someone new already. That broke me.

I started to question everything. Was he already in the picture before she ended things with me? How could someone so calm and thoughtful move on so quickly, ending a four-year relationship and finding someone else within weeks? It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to move on. I just felt left behind without care. I believed I deserved a little more compassion. But the warmth I once knew had grown cold, and I was left feeling like a forgotten chapter in her story.

I got the chance to speak to her and said, “My Mother, couldn’t you have waited just a few months more for me to finish my dissertation before breaking this out to me?” She apologized sincerely, and I believed her. She’s a sweet soul, a thoughtful person. But when she decided to leave, she didn’t leave a crack open; she shut the door ruthlessly.

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When I found out she was dating someone new just weeks after, I called to offer my closure. I told her I prayed for her and wished her well. I confessed that nothing had changed in my heart and that I’d always love her. She told me gently to show myself grace, and go find love again. But how could I? I had given her every drop of my love. There was none left for anyone else.

Then came the final blow.

In my brokenness, a friend introduced me to a counselor and a pastor to talk to. He asked to speak to the both of us. I agreed. I just didn’t know what he planned to say.

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