vI waited for almost two years for all my feelings of resentment to leave. When they finally left it was a sunny day. I was clapping my hands for someone who had caused much pain in my life. It was as if I had imagined the torture I had endured when we would bump into each other months before. A few months later, I would learn that this is how life teaches. It pulls you into sadness and then thrusts you into the joy of forgiveness.

I had been close to my friend since I was in pre-school. There was not a milestone of her life I was not part of from first boyfriends to baptisms. She was easy. She had been the easiest space I have ever occupied. We would sit laughing, sharing dreams, secrets and life. We did have our seasons, we would have intensity and then it would simmer down to more casual meetings. I expected her existence in my life like one expects the sun to rise in the morning.

We had our usual chill session in my dorm room. Everything seemed pleasant and when she was leaving, I said good bye casually and continued with my work. We had just discussed the ever present drama in my relationship with my then boyfriend with a mix of other things. Later that same night he had done something again which upset me (he did things, often) so I sent a text to share my frustrations with my friend. I received a response filled with raw rage. I read a few key words; tired, always, leave. I cannot remember the entire text but I remember the shock that caught me. Where was she keeping all these things? Did she tuck her annoyance under her smile and her anger in yesterday’s meal?

The first, only and last storm had hit us and we were completely tarnished. I made attempts to reach out, eventually months later we managed to hang out and chat. Once I sensed it was finally safe enough to enquire, I took advantage and asked what really happened.

“So what was the problem?”
“It’s just your boyfriend,”
“Oh”

In that reply, everything changed for me. I went home that day without her truth but the real truth was that things would never be the same. It would be the beginning of many negative emotions that would flood me for months. I felt rejection and its sisters make their homes in my heart. I could only pray and release her. Forgiveness came a year later when I had the opportunity to celebrate her coming of age. It hit me that I wanted light for her. I clapped and sang for her. I knew then that I would always love her, perhaps only because so much of her exists in me.

Image: Ghamzadi Pooja

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Zamathole Sithole
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