She was a church girl who didn’t want to go against her church teachings on marriage, so the very first day that we had a conversation about dating she asked, ‘If I agreed to date you, would you promise me one thing?” I asked, “What one thing?” She said, “I want us to abstain until we get married. Can you?” I asked her, “Does that mean you haven’t done it before?” She said, “Never. I haven’t even been kissed. I’m reserving everything for the special day.” I said, “I wouldn’t mind abstaining but you’ll have to help me.” She asked, “You’ve done it before, I guess.” I said, “I was sixteen when I got broken so yes, I’ve done it before but as I said, I can wait with you.”

She held my hand and said, “Thank you for agreeing with me. I will have you in my prayers. With God on our side, we’ll do just fine.”

Life with Lilian was the most boring relationship I’d ever been in. We couldn’t go anywhere without her resorting to the bible. We couldn’t do anything without her bringing the bible in to ascertain if God would be pleased. Her innocence was so pure it left me enchanted and it was the reason I decided to go all the way with her. I couldn’t get her to do anything so I sought the comfort I couldn’t get from her from other people. If I needed to have fun, I called my friends and their girlfriends. If I needed to go anywhere the bible wouldn’t approve of, I went with my friends. I cheated on her with other people, I must admit but I did my best to keep it from her.

Two years after going up and down with her, we finally got married. One our wedding day, when the pastor said, “You may now kiss the bride,” I looked into her eyes and I saw fear. Her lips were shaking. We had something that looked like a perk on the lips and moved on. When we got to our hotel room to begin our honeymoon, she asked me, “How did I do? Am I a good kisser?” I said, “The real kiss starts tonight. What we did there wasn’t a kiss.”

When the light went off and we went beneath the sheet, we started kissing. She didn’t do badly. I said, For a first-time kisser, this is good.” She smiled and started kissing very hard. And then it got to the point where I go in. She asked, “Is it going to hurt?” I said, “A little. Just hold your breath. If I’m able to go in the first time, the rest would be easy.” All night I tried but I couldn’t go in. When I tried harder, she screamed out of pain and tapped my back to stop it. I would stop and take a break. She would limp to the fridge, drink some juice and come back; “Dear, I’m ready. Let’s do it. This time, no stopping.”

I would try. She’ll tighten her pelvic, preventing me to go further. I would say, “Darling, try and loosen up.” She’ll say, “I’ve loosened up, just go.” I would try and try. I got bruises. I got tired. I stopped. The same thing happened on the second day and on the third day. She looked miserable. She sounded like she had failed as a wife. She got worried. I tried to calm her down. I told her, “It’s usually like that but immediately I’m able to go in, you’ll be fine.”

On the fourth day, I pushed harder. She scratched my back until I bled but I didn’t stop. I went in. At least the tip and a little bit of the shaft entered. She cried all night. At some point, I thought something was going to happen to her. I put ice there. I fanned her there until she slept. When she woke up the next morning she asked, “Did I rock your world? I hope I did better than your ex.”

I thought the next round was going to be easier but we went through the same routine as the previous nights until I gave up. I didn’t blame her for what she was going through. I had patience, thinking this too shall pass. Honeymoon over. We are home and living life like a husband and a wife. We kept trying. We tried it in the morning. We tried it in the afternoon. We tried it in the evening. Nothing could work. Immediately I get closer to her, she starts shaking. Immediately I lie on top, she closes her legs and tightens her pelvic. And then she’ll begin to sweat. She’ll finally say, “I can’t stand the pain. It’s unbearable.”

A year later, we were still experiencing this same issue. It got to a point where she started getting scared of my presence. Those I confided in suggested therapy. When I spoke to her about it, she said, “This is not a disease. Maybe I was born this way.” She’ll never accept to seek help. When I stopped trying, she complained; “You’re getting it from somewhere, right?” Nothing I said could make sense in her ears. We’ve been married for two years and over. The closest I’ve gotten to my wife was a kiss. I remember begging her to at least give me BJ. She said, “God didn’t create us to do it that way.” I lowered my expectation. I asked for a hand job. She said, “It’s not supposed to be held in the hand.”

Sometimes I feel like I’m married to a wall—an impenetrable wall. I’ve had the urge to cheat, I won’t deny that but I remember what she told me when we were at the peak of our problems. She said, “Maybe it’s God’s punishment to you for engaging in premarital sex with other people.” I don’t believe that’s the case but I’m fighting my urge to cheat so I don’t complicate the problems we find ourselves in.

Some weeks ago, I got our pastor to talk to her about it. In front of the pastor, she agreed to seek help. We got home and she forgot about it. When I tried to remind her she said, “Don’t push me. I said I will get help and I’ll do it at my own pace.” Maybe she’s depressed about the whole thing but I’m also depressed, confused and hungry. I don’t know how long I could hold on for. I don’t know my own strength at this point but I’ve tried. I’ve driven the horse to the river and she’s refusing to drink. What if a more willing horse comes along? Would it be my fault?

—Augustine