On December 21, 2019, I encountered my long-term partner for what would be the last time. Unbeknownst to me, she had realized our relationship was nearing its end and had even started seeing someone else. I left, under the impression that I was the one ending things. She was approximately two months pregnant at that time, and I was not the father. From the $20 I had managed to earn that month, I gave her half, calling it a “Christmas gift.”

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The day following our final encounter, I made my way to my old university. Acquiring a computer had been a challenge, and I was eager to publish a novel through an aggregator known as “Draft2Digital.” However, when the book didn’t sell, I removed it from the platform, taking with me the valuable experience gained from crafting a post-apocalyptic narrative. Access to the university library’s computers required a current semester ID, but I had left school the previous term. Determined, I faced a difficult battle to enter the library with an outdated ID, its old colors a clear giveaway to the vigilant library guards. I spent the entire day waiting outside, only managing to slip in during the shift change of the guards at night.

I couldn’t complete my work in a single night, and the library’s closing time at 10 PM didn’t help. With no food left, I seized the opportunity to enter the library during the cleaning staff’s shift to bypass the difficult entry process. My novel still required extensive editing and had numerous grammatical errors. By noon, hunger pangs were hitting me hard as I worked on the computer.

I exited the library. The national examination council responsible for evaluating secondary, primary, and high school students’ tests had set up their marking operations on campus, utilizing the university’s computers and dormitories for lodging. The examiners received bread each morning and would toss out what they didn’t consume. That’s when I found my place in the cycle of sustenance. I rummaged through the trash and emerged with what would be my sustenance for the day.

From then on, every aspiration and objective transformed into a clear vision for me. I embraced anger instead of passion, and I caution against the perils of pursuing dreams fueled by rage. Yet, it was with this intense emotion that I overcame barriers. In March 2020, I swiftly penned my inaugural song, “I Found Love,” as my former love re-entered my life. She was essentially the sole woman I had truly known, and we had spent four years in a sporadic relationship.

I composed poems and letters for her, but they remained solely in my possession. These pieces of writing became the muse for my journey into songwriting. I’ve crafted over fifty songs, and I’m dedicating myself to the dream of forming a band to share them with the world. Each song belongs to a genre that’s yet to be discovered by the masses.

In 2023, she sought me out to reveal the truth, inadvertently halting my prolific songwriting. Now a single mother with her ex-husband incarcerated, she was unaware of the profound impact she had on my life. The challenging days of December 2019 were a turning point, shaping me into a seasoned, multifaceted writer. I’ve since created songs, novels, and poems that I’m eager to publish. While we’ve agreed to remain friends without rekindling our past, I hope to share the fruits of my labor with her in the spirit of friendship.

My past relationship imparted several lessons. Our union was hindered by my family’s reluctance to accept an uneducated partner for me. At that time, reliant on my parents, her presence in my life hinged on their consent. Moving forward, I won’t deter my children from loving or marrying someone from a less affluent background. Love can open doors to vast possibilities. Many have found success by partnering with someone who nurtures their aspirations. Sharing common interests and educational backgrounds doesn’t guarantee personal growth unless the relationship is rooted in deep friendship.