It was my idea. I was tired of playing around and I was tired of building relationships that didn’t last. They come today and it is good. Tomorrow, everything changes. They will blame you and blame it on issues that didn’t exist. I was tired of being jilted after giving it my all so when Asante came along, I told him; “I love you indeed and want to be with you in the long haul but you’ll have to bear with me. We can’t do it until we are married, that’s if marriage is your destination.”
He asked all the why questions. I didn’t have answers, except to say, “I want us to last. I’ve tried the others and it didn’t work. Let me try this one too and see. It’s unfortunate that it has to be you but I believe in the intentions of your heart and I know it’s for something good. Let’s wait until there are rings on our fingers.”
He accepted yet tried on so many occasions to get it. I called it stealing; “Why do you want to steal your own food? Something you can have every day?” He answered, “If it’s my own food then don’t you think I deserve to have it when I want it? If you’ll give it to me tomorrow, then what’s the point of keeping it away from me today?” We had a lot of such arguments but the good thing is, I was steadfast in my desire to keep it until marriage.
We dated for two years…two years of nothing until one day he asked me to marry him. From there, everything happened so fast because he was ready and I was willing. Our wedding was my proudest day. I felt like I’d succeeded in something. Like the builder who finally completed a mansion. He takes several steps back and observes the beauty of what his hands have made. With pride in his heart, he tells himself, “Wow, I can’t believe I built this.” That was exactly the feeling. I thought about the ups and downs when we were dating and said to myself, “We did it. Most importantly, we did it without shuperu.”
When the wedding was over and the world left us alone, I knew what was next and I was fully prepared for it. He didn’t waste time at all, he jumped on it and started riding. Less than two minutes later, he was panting out of satisfaction. He was done. I hadn’t even started feeling it. “Asante, don’t tell me you’re done. But….but we just started.” He fell off me and turned to the wall. He murmured, “That’s what happens when you starve a man for far too long. Anticipation kills longevity if you don’t know.” He slept fulfilled but I was left yawning throughout the night. I thought he’ll revisit at dawn but my gentleman never did until sunrise.
I took it to him in the morning, asking him to do the do. Again, we didn’t go beyond two minutes. He told me, “It’s like electric. It passes through me and my whole body becomes gɔvɛɛ like that. At that point, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t hold it beyond that point.”
It was the beginning so I didn’t think of it as a problem until months later when I realized it was becoming a permanent feature in our affairs of the night. One afternoon, I cornered him and begged him to last for me; “Just five minutes, Asante. Try, you’re the man. I know you can. Keep going….yeah continue. You’re doing well.” All I heard was, “Huuuh!” Like a train that has come to an abrupt stop. He was done. Another less-than-two-minute show. “What was all that motivational speech for?” He asked me. “It was the reason I didn’t last. Learn to keep quiet When the action is going on. You’re not a boxing coach.”
That day I told him to get help. He told me he was fine. I told him fine people last the mile. He told me the mile is a matter of perspective. We were skidding into a verbal fight. I saw it coming and pulled the brakes. In the evening I told him I was serious about him getting help. “You’re too sensitive, that’s the problem. All the excuses you’ve been giving me don’t hold water. We are married. Whatever that’s you is what I got so there’s no need to lie about anything. Get help dear, talk to a specialist.”
He agreed to do it but never did. He told me he’s eating fruits and vegetables and that should work. He told me he had read online that certain exercises help, so he will do those exercises. He told me it takes time for a problem to go away so I should be patient. I’ve been patient for a year. On our anniversary, I wanted a special treat and he gave me everything a woman would need for her anniversary but when it got to where it matters most, Asante failed miserably. I don’t want it to look like his situation worries me so I’m playing normal. These days, I take whatever he can give but it’s never enough. Honestly, it feels like I haven’t had shuperu in three years because Asante barely scratches my itch.
It’s dicey here. If I talk too much about it, he might get the wrong message and bend inward. I don’t want to affect the little confidence he has that’s why I’m bearing with him but I really want a permanent solution to this. He doesn’t listen to my S.O.S. calls because he feels he’s OK. He can pant and sleep after one minute and thirty seconds so the world is alright. Well, not for me. I waited for two years to get here. It’s been a year already and it still feels like nothing has happened to my body.
I need tricks to get him going. What should I do to get him to act? A man’s ego gets bruised easily, so I’ve learned. Our marriage is too young to stand the shocks of bruised egos. I want a better way. A sister is suffering. Just imagine being awakened at dawn for a match and two minutes later he would be sleeping again while you lay awake thinking of stars and counting sheep. I’m suffering ooo but he doesn’t see it. Hmmmm.
