It was midnight and I still didn’t know Chris’s whereabouts. Why did this boyfriend of mine find so much satisfaction in messing with my head? I mean, did he have the slightest idea of how my brain seemed to malfunction every time he decided to pull his stunts on me? Did he even have a clue how expensive my ‘unnoticeable’ efforts to please him were? I had bought lingerie and planned a dinner for two but no, my Chris had better things to do than to be with his girlfriend, clearly. It’s not as if he noticed what I wore anyway: as long as I worked my butt off, received my pay cheque, was submissive to him, and was anti-social (because he was clearly insecure), he was happy with me. Other than that, he didn’t seem to have an interest in anything else.

I drank wine here and there but tonight I’d been drinking way too much for my own good. What had I turned into? I’ll tell you: an alcoholic, that’s what! Chris came home and pretended not to see me finishing the last of my fifth or sixth glass of wine. It could have been more than that, I had lost count. He knocked on the door and when I politely asked him to talk, he had the decency to say to me, “Hai kwangoku Lebo man, tomorrow, we’ll talk tomorrow!”

The nerve! As much as I called for him repeatedly, he proceeded to walk upstairs unbothered about what I had to say. Intwephi lena, I thought, ebemkile iweekendi yonke (where is this thing, I thought he left for the whole weekend) and this is what he does? Now I couldn’t have possibly slept in peace, let alone in the same bed as him.

I was obedient to Chris. He had somehow managed to tame me from the very commencement of our relationship. Chris was six years older than I was when I got into a not-so-romantic relationship with him, when I was just way too young and naïve to understand that he was the type of man that any female with the slightest amount of self-love and respect should, by all means necessary, get away from, and never look back once they had. A manipulating, stalking, lying, cheating, crazy boyfriend who ensured he had full control over my life and lived off other people’s pain. Lord knows, if I had realised exactly what this man was before I gave myself to him, I would have run as fast as I could and warned every female on the planet about him.

Right after our ‘altercation’ I took my wine bottle, saying to myself, “Yabo ke ngoku ndiyonxila imali yami (you see now I am going to drink away my money),” and I left there and then, unconcerned about what he might do if he found out I had left at that hour without even notifying him.

It was typical of Chris to petrify me into never doing something as stupid as being mad at him, let alone leaving the house at midnight. I started driving, as much as I wasn’t supposed to be drinking and driving, this man had driven me insane, crazy enough that I had no fear of the repercussions of drinking and driving.

There is something about undealt-with trauma that impacts the human mindset. I had been through so much trauma because of one messy individual but I never left him. I never knew how to love myself enough to call it quits and, as much as I tried becoming stronger and tougher, truth is, I was scared of my boyfriend. As light as the excuse may sound, especially for a woman of my status, I had learnt the brutal way that being insecure, settling for what I bluntly call garbage, and being unable to love myself enough for various reasons, could potentially be my ultimate ruin.

Tell us: Why do you think Lebo won’t leave her abusive boyfriend?