Ever had someone slip through your fingers even though they were just perfect for you? The love interest who could have been, but wasn’t.

Well, the people in this article can relate. While they’ve moved on, they still hold on to cherished memories of what could have been.

Rasheedat*, 51

My fiancé died in a car accident in 2002.

He had proposed just two weeks before, and we were in the middle of planning our introduction. But one afternoon, I came home from work to a room full of family members and strangers. My parents broke the news, and I remember waking up in the hospital the next morning. It was there they also found out I was pregnant. My parents didn’t want me to keep the baby—they were worried I’d be a single mum. But I couldn’t bring myself to terminate the pregnancy.

I’ve dated other men and even remarried, but no one has loved me as deeply as Ibrahim*. It’s hard to put my feelings into words now because it’s been over 20 years, but I’ve never felt the way I did with him. If he hadn’t died, I know I’d never have been with anyone else.

Dotun*, 31

I was once with this girl I really loved. She loved me too—at least that’s what I believed at the time. We clicked so well it was clear to everyone how into each other we were. It was that type of relationship where your partner basically felt like your best friend. All these happened while I hadn’t officially asked her to be my girlfriend. When I finally popped the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question, she said no.

Her reason? “You’re too good for me.”

It hurt a lot. We both eventually moved on, though we managed to remain friends. I sometimes think she could have been my Mrs.

Seun*,35

You know how you just have the gut feeling that someone is your God-given soulmate? That’s how I felt about my first girlfriend in uni. We were together for two years, and I don’t remember any bad memories in all that time spent. Our parents even let us spend holidays together.

But in 300-level, her family won the visa lottery and relocated. At the time, travelling wasn’t remotely in my plans, so we knew we were probably saying goodbye for good. When the time came for her to leave, we didn’t officially break up —we both held on to the hope that we’d make it work, no matter what.

But life happened. When she got to the US, our communication suffered; we both didn’t have phones and it wasn’t easy to keep things going as we’d imagined. I’m happily married now, but I still wonder what life would have been like if I’d married her.

Dolapo*, 33

My first boyfriend was good to me in so many ways. He took care of me like a sister—he bought me the latest phones, made sure I kept up with my studies, and waited until I was ready to have sex in my final year. I didn’t need anyone to tell me this was someone who loved and cared deeply for me.

We didn’t end up together because of his mother. He proposed to me when I was in my final year. Before then, I’d not physically met his family. It was just occasional telephone conversations. On the day we visited his parents, his mum pulled me to a side  and said “I don’t hate you, but you cannot marry my son. He can’t marry anyone from Ogun state, let alone Ijebu.”

Walking away from what was a perfect relationship hurt a lot, but I also knew I wasn’t ready for a lifetime of fighting for acceptance.

I sometimes think about all the relationship trouble I suffered after we parted ways and I have a deep conviction that I wouldn’t have gone through all that if I was with him. He’s married now, and we don’t keep in touch.

John*, 38

I was in a six-year relationship before I met my wife. I was convinced she was my last bus stop, especially after my pastor said we were perfect for each other. It was easy to believe because I felt it too. Before her, my longest relationship lasted a year. But with her, we made it to six.

Our relationship fell apart after her mum went on a pilgrimage and returned with a vision. According to her, we would have a good life, but it would be fruitless. To be honest, I wasn’t fazed—I was perfectly fine with adopting or even living without kids. But the revelation rattled her. I tried to reassure her, but her mum’s vision was always the elephant in the room between us.

Eventually, she walked away. It was one of those breakups where you still love each other, even at the end. Now, she’s happily married with kids, and so am I. We tried keeping in touch, but it felt unfair to our partners, considering how we felt about each other.

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