The love of your life

A distinction


I’m 29 now. I remember the first time(s) I fell in love. Between 20 and 22, with two different people. Before these loves, I was completely oblivious to what it was.

I’m now in a loving relationship. It’s going stronger by the day and I’m happy.

The other day my friends asked me if he’s the love of my life. I said no, without much hesitation. He’s the great love of my life, I said.

Those four words, LOVE OF MY LIFE, describe to me what happened between 20 and 22 with those two individuals. The experiences with them were very different. In one situation it was unrequited love, it was acknowledged but not necessarily returned. In the second instant it was everything, I was given mind, body and soul.


This is how I experienced the loves of my life whether things were good or bad:

  • The sound of a door opening, I hoped it was them.
  • A beep on my phone, I hoped it was them.
  • When I turned a corner, I hoped they were on the other side.
  • Elevator doors opening, I hoped it was them inside.
  • In public spaces, it was them I hoped to see.
  • Footsteps.
  • My name hollered.

See this was everywhere. It wasn’t a thing of logic. My body had physical reactions to what I was feeling, a lot of adrenaline. I spent three years anticipating. Every single time it wasn’t them, my heart would sink in disappointment. Knowing this disappointment wasn’t enough; the anticipation would come back, as strong, over and over again. So many moments of breathlessness.

This is what my life was. Excitement, anticipation, disappointment. It was heroin.  I swear there were times when I thought I was going to throw up.


These feelings quelled over time, as most things do. I however wanted to replicate this. This is what I knew as love. I was still addicted to that rush.

It never happened. For years it never happened. I thought I’d reached my love quota. I’d peaked too early.

I then found the great love of my life. A knowing came over me. I always knew. He was the one around the corner, I always knew it was him calling/texting, I knew his footsteps – it was always him. This is, again, how it always is, whether things are good or bad.


I’d rather this. From heroin to kale.




​Time to go

This is for my friend who forgot to follow the music.
So quick to shell’a you, so very very quick. They come at you with their guts and desires. You take them on, for whatever reason you do.

They come to know you. You give to them, and maybe they too give to you. You’re dancing like you never have.
Time passes, things dwindle. The flames quell, as they often do. The lights go on, and home whispers to you both. 
The buck now falls with you. Now you must nurse them out of what they started. Oh they’ll tell themselves a tale of two hearts:
“I’m still in love, but it needs to end, I just don’t want to cause hurt”
Filling your space with gassy lies of favour and pity, apparently for you. 
It’s strange for a while, it doesn’t feel like anything, how can it? You inhale the gasses, you lose your mind. You scramble for your stuff.
Then a time comes. They don’t have it, you must. That bravado that started this is no more. True grit is now with you. 
It’s time to go.


All I can do is love you.

I can’t help you with being loved.

Someone must have moved the door to you heart.

All I know is that when I got here, it wasn’t there.

A part of me dies every time you sabotage the little windows you so ungraciously try to open.

My love is weakened by pity

Every time I want to let go

You make it hurt just a little more to make me stay

Your pain, my strength, your chains

Dating Rambo, Whatsapp and Being Ignored

This is an empathy blog post, I’ve heard this story many many times. I was having a conversation with Quest. She was telling me about a guy who’s just acting up for no reason, especially since no one asked him to act down in the first place.


If you’re a 20 something year old doing his/her own thing, this has probably happened to you before. I used to do this, but it got done to me, so I think it’s inhuman to do this to another mother’s child (yes, we must think of how people have mothers, and how they’d just bleed if they knew their children were being treated so badly). So I don’t do it anymore. Here’s the deal.


And so it starts. One of your friends has the best idea in the world. It usually starts like this: “I know this great guy’. You’re not particularly busy, so it’s chilled, you go along with it. It starts with whatsapp and if you’re lucky, or not, it’s followed by a date. The whatsapp conversations are nothing ground breaking, but you can survive them. You figure that you’re interesting and have things to tell someone, either then twitter and your friends. So you decide, fine, I’ll tell this here niglet things. Then you get comfortable, because somehow that’s just how it happens. Inside of you grows a comfortable excitement, still nothing to write home about, but you do happen to smile about it whenever.


A few days later, you go on a date. It’s a good laugh, it could easily be a scene from a B rate romcom. But you’re smart, so your expectations are again left unchanged. Then, this person wants to be dating Rambo at the end of the date. “This was great! I’m so glad that I finally met you. Wow! You’re so amazing! You’re like the best date I’ve been on in eons. We should totally do this again”. For a moment, your ego is on spinning rims. You tell a few friends, your voice goes up a few octaves. But again, you’re smart. You calm down. You get home and check whatsapp…no messages from Rambo…


You send a standard message, polite, breezy, chilled, informal and just generally oozing of etiquette, to comment on the date. Mind you, not because you’re ‘trying something’, because that’s what people do after a date. You go to sleep. And wake to “Yeah sure, it was great! Have a good day.”


You think to yourself: “Um…what is this now?”. But now there’s a script! So you follow it, “Will do you too.”


A day later, dating Rambo is quiet, and you have interesting things to say. You know it’s pretty much over, and he’s just not that into you, but he’s a human being right? So you say hello, and ramble on about something. There he goes, tweeting up a storm and 3 hours he replies. By now the fat lady has sung all the numbers in Mama Mia, she’s done! It’s over. Nothing is ever going to happen between you and dating Rambo. And you’re cool with it. BUT HE IS A HUMAN BEING. So than it starts.


You say hello, when whatsapp says he’s online. Literally, 2 seconds later, he’s “last seen”. “Is he putting his phone down because I said hello? What the hell is this bull now?”. 10 minutes later he’s back, not to reply to your hello mind you. So you think “Oh hell no! TF kinda goldfish memory does this one think I have? Does he think I forgot that I said hello to me?” Why is he doing this? You hold back all the crazy that’s brewing, until it all just goes away.


10 days later…you’re completely over it. But you have to holla at Obi…because you’re not too sure what happened. Obi’s response. “I have no fucking clue!!!”.


But I did learn a few weeks ago that there are studies that suggest that being ignored sends signals to your brain, that closely resemble physical pain. So people just want to hurt you sometimes. That’s the only logical explanation I have for why dating Rambo exists.

“When I’m weak …

“When I’m weak I draw strength from you
And when you’re lost I know how to change your mood
And when I’m down you breathe life over me
Even though we’re miles apart we are each other’s destiny”

This is from one of my favourite songs by Zero 7. Reminds me of all those exs of mine that I always left thinking “you will always be my baby’. Listening to this song reminds me of all of them. It reminds me that I was lucky enough to have these people in my life.

We are still each other’s destiny. I once loved you. That’s set in stone. Nothing will change that. Before I met you, you were apart of my destiny. 


Love Sands

Love sands

Love sands passing through the hour glass.

There’s a limit to your love.

What was endlessly abundant and enduring is lost with each grain.

Grains of hope and promises of permanence.

Love sands running through my hands, as I try to preserve as much as I can.

I have no control over the gaping holes in your heart.

Holes I’ve tried to fill ever so often.

Love sands of dust on the window pane of my life.

A life without vision,

Obscured by the winds of reminisce

Of you and what you are meant to be.

Love sands of debris at the floor of my heart.

A wreckage of everything that was never truly mine.

The tempest you brewed for a sadness I did not cause.

Love sands in the horizon,

Love sands I walk to

Love sands I’ll collect

Love sands that’ll weigh me down

Love sands everywhere

Love sands of you


The Science and Poop Of Breaking Up

Eish another one of my friends got dumped, I’m in bad company, I know. I used to be the worst person at breaking up. I didn’t know how to break up and this sucked for me and the other person.

Getting dumped sucks! I actually don’t like the word “dump”. It’s a synonymous with unpleasant things. We are not trash; we shouldn’t have to “get dumped”. I don’t know if I’ve said this before on my blog but I’ll say it now. I’ve had two great loves, T and S. With T it wasn’t going to work because I was way too insecure then, so I ended it. With S it wasn’t going to work because we were living on hope alone and that isn’t enough to sustain a relationship, drugs do a better job. It was just impractical. Needless to say, when you break up with someone the why trains keep coming because people need closure.

I remember a long time ago my friend was dating this guy, they were “both” very “happy “until he moved to another city. They tried the long distance thing for a short while, but he felt that it’s not working for him so he ended it. My friend was pissed off for a reason I didn’t expect. She had it in her mind that he was lying about why he wanted the break up. She swore it was something else and she wished he could be more honest. We were never able to establish this “truth” my friend was looking for, but she’d soon be proved right. A year later they were in the same city again, both single. They tried to get back together, but it didn’t work. He just wasn’t that into her.

So when you do break up with someone, you owe them closure and closure is honesty, especially if you know how they feel about you. The truth really does set people free even when that freedom isn’t instant. Everyone has some kind of idea(s) why a lover doesn’t want to be with them anymore. Even when they don’t see it coming they’ll have some kind of clue. It will haunt them if that idea isn’t confirmed or dispelled. We all want to hear it sometimes…to be set free.

I’ve seen people lose their minds over break ups and if there’s a common trait in these break ups, it’s a lack of truth. And things like “we can still be friends” and “it’s not you, it’s me” don’t make it better. Those are not things anyone wants to hear when they’re getting dumped; they’re especially not things I want to hear. I’m in the habit of saying this to potentials in my romantic life “I can take anything you throw at me, you just need to be careful how you throw it” this includes how you dump me. As such I always offer friends who are about to dump someone a crash course in sensitivity training after advising them to tell the truth. Sometimes the truth is “I’m bored” but you can never say that to someone. It’s rude and karma doesn’t take kindly to such. Actually relationship karma is the worst kind of karma. Trust me, T and S are being well avenged by karma’s wrath right now. I got so many stray animals after them.

Take home message is be careful how you leave people. It’s fair, do best. We all want love and permanence, when you take that away from someone be considerate.

Postscript and other things (you don’t have to read this bit)

1.       When you’re dating (having a fling, testing the water) you actually don’t need to be the breaking up martyr. This is for people in relationships. Really an email is will do just fine if you’re dating. I see nothing wrong with that. Smses, post-it notes etc are a little too curt. But a well thought out email is enough. Also, if you’re quiet long enough, they’ll get the message. Jokes.

2.       Meera and Robert had been together for four months, but Meera felt that the relationship had run its course. One night they got back from a party together, slightly inebriated. They proceed to drink more on Meera’s request. Robert always knew Meera to be a coward, he just had no idea how big a coward she was. He was in for a rude awakening.

After a number of vodka tonics she had all the Dutch courage she needed to leave him. She tells him that it is over and she’s not in love anymore. She then insisted that he has to leave. They argue for a bit and he tells her that he’s too drunk to drive. So she lets him sleep on the couch. She could hear him crying from her bedroom until she passed out. On the next morning she wakes up with him hovering over her with his lips quivering and his eyes twitching. With his voice shaking Robert asked “can we get back together?” Being the coward that she is, and at this point terrified for her life and her property, Meera took Robert back. They hugged and she convincingly explained that she was stressed and didn’t mean to break up with him. They stayed in bed for a little while chatting. Meera then sent Robert for breakfast.

Soon as he was out of her complex, Meera called Rob to explain that she did indeed mean to break up with him and that she was scared of what he would do to her, so she had to take him back. At this point Robert hung up on her. She rushed to security and informed them never to let him again.

Moral of the story break ups are messy enough, don’t be clumsy.

3.       Lastly, to my T and S. If you’re reading this. I killed a little part(s) of me when I let you (y’all) go. I think about you (y’all) often and I really wish I could’ve handled things better. I hope you’re both doing well. #MeeraTendencies

The Good Mistress

A few days ago I had a conversation about mistresses with @KopanoMashishi. She said that she’d never be able to be with another woman’s man. It’s admirable that some women choose to stay away, but I don’t necessarily condemn women who don’t. Women who have side dick…The Good Manstress, this is for you too. Diane Lane was too convincing in Unfaithful for us not to recognise this growing pandemic.

The word “mistress” seems to have glamorous connotation. Mistress (I looked it up) means: a woman who has a continuing extramarital sexual relationship with one man, esp a man who in return for an exclusive and continuing liaison provides her with financial support. The penny chaser and the sex fiend. I’m not talking about this woman.

I’m also not talking about Glen Close’s character in Fatal Attraction.

I’m talking about a single woman who gets pursued by a married man and ends up giving in to his advances. What’s the name for her? Why does she also have to be degraded into the same class as penny chasers and sexual fiends? And if she’s lucky enough to not be called a mistress, she gets called a “home wrecker”. I’m not trying to come up with a new word for this woman, so for simplicity I’ll keep calling her a mistress, the good mistress.

We all need to understand that a relationship is between two people. The demise of a relationship and any issues that may arise can never be blamed on a third person. I believe this to be an absolute statement. I don’t think mistresses have the power to end a marriage. Every time a mistress in blamed I feel like women (society) has completely given up on men, and it is now every single women’s responsibility to make sure that all husbands don’t stray.  It’s bullshit.

Maybe there aren’t enough men to go around and the “good ones” are taken, what’s a single lady to do? I’m not advocating for bad behaviour, all I’m saying is that when “bad behaviour” happens anyway, we must be very careful who we condemn and if they even deserve condemnation.

I just wanted to advocate the good mistress. She too needs, wants and deserves companionship. If this world were perfect she wouldn’t have to accept it from a married man. It’s not fair for her to say no when it’s a perfectly viable option for her. Even when it’s not every night, on Christmas, on her birthday or on nights her lover has to be with his wife.


  1. Dr Mamphela Ramphele is the perfect example of this good mistress I’m talking about. One of the greatest women on our continent, she was Steve Biko’s mistress and everyone knew. See how terrible the word mistress is? You can’t be calling the great Dr Ramphele a mistress. It’s rude!
  2. I asked people if there was a euphemism for mistress. I got two funny responses.  @Onklez : Ad hoc companion. @KopanoMashishi Mistress is already a euphemism for whore.
  3. But what about the kids? Truth is kids are resilient if you have a relationship with them. Many of my friends have philanderers for fathers and they turned out just fine. Many of my friends have faithful fathers and they’re fucked up. So really, leave the mistress out of it.
  4. With polygamy it works out perfectly for The Good Mistress. She can get promoted to The Good Second Wife. I guess all our first ladies, before the first wife were mistresses at some point? Not sure how it works with polygamy actually. Grey area…
  5. I love Angelina Jolie. If you want to hate someone hate Brad Pitt. Yes, I went there!
  6. Ladies, if you have to have men on the side, please don’t use the excuse “if men can do it, so can we”. You don’t need to be like men. So that really is the worst excuse ever! Cheating isn’t cool, if you do it, it best be for quality dick or untamed passion that you really can’t help…or love.
  7. That song Women To Women by Shirley, was in bed taste.
  8. If you are The Good Mistress your favourite songs are “Saving all my love for you” by Whitney Houston or “As we lay” by Kelly Price, than you deserve that call from Shirley! Smh!


Tough to swallow

An unloving clown, third degree burns on my face. My fondness is farce and my smile is but a show. For you my heart beats in silence. Tortured by a love I do not feel, I am suffocated by your admiration. I gag on your affections and my stomach turns at your adoration.

Tell me you hate me, I might desire you.

Push me aside, perhaps I’ll embrace you.

This heart is bound in chains. A caged soul lies stagnant inside of me. An illuminated darkness is waiting to break your heart.

But I won’t let it happen…for who else will love me?


The Loving Sadist

I am the agent of joy, I am harsh and exquisite

A star to light up your life,

I’m here to convince you of my halo

A hollow shell in need of true love

My promise of eternity

A sun in the darkness

Enticed by a marvellous dawn

Your love or your life?

So bright, so sore

In everlasting  sheets of pain I will enclose you in.

A grand gesture of devotion every day

Planting seeds, growing thoughts inside of you

Now I’ve lost you in a maze of rosy bushes

Trapped in my beauty, spellbound by my scorn

You’ve come to love me, as much as it kills you

I have you rotting in my filthy prison of desire

Puss seeps from your every pore, day in day out

Wrapped in chains, with locks that have no keys

Shackled in my cult of love you still worship me

Your heart still beats for me

You’re so pathetic, look at yourself

I want to put you out of your misery

For that I would have to break your heart


I can’t

I won’t

It’s far too snug, under my feet