Why did I ever mention it in the first place? Regret stirred in my mind — the thought so unbearable and confusing at the same time. The other part of me felt quite relieved, while the other persecuted me for malicious damage.
I found myself to be the root of the current crisis in our friendship.
Hastily, I flipped through the memory pages in my head. My friendship with Tifelane was just a bud then. I first met her at a religious gathering in the university’s main lecture theatre. The minister on this day talked about Godly relationships, a topic I usually took pleasure listening to, despite my singleness.
On this Saturday night I sat beside Tifelane. I often stole gazes at her but never got satisfied. She was such a beauty that my eyes simply couldn’t get enough of her. And looking at her throughout the sermon was worthier than the notes I was supposed to copy.
Since that night, I often went to such lectures not only to get delighted in the topics, but also to enjoy the aesthetic of Tifelane᾿s presence. I made sure I utilised these Saturday nights to the fullest because we never met during the week due to our colliding schedules. She was doing architectural studies and I was pursuing my Bachelor degree in Arts.
As time passed, we became inseparable friends. Some students thought we were dating but such was not the case. It never crossed my mind that I would for a day be called her hubby. Through our friendship, I learnt that she was upright; had principles and was a beauty even behind all the makeup.
Having studied her, I swore never to compromise our friendship. I avoided initiating my feelings towards her. The best I knew was to be her best companion. But as I walked her to her hostel this particular night, I blew it.
“Tifelane,” I called for her attention.
“Yes Zilimbile,” she responded with her angel like orchestral voice.
“Tife,” I called her name again.
She turned to look me in the eyes. “Is there anything you aren’t comfortable telling me?” she was inquisitive.
“No Tife… No. Emm… Yes … No.” I stammered.
“Zili, whatever it is that you want to tell me, speak up. Besides, we are already at my door and it’s late. Speak before we part,” she urged.
“Tife, I… I am in love with you. I am…”
The look I got from her stopped me from continuing with the talk. I realised a drop of sweat had just fallen from my forehead, and many others were assembling on my nose. I felt so hot that my sweater and scarf suffocated me on this cold July evening.
Examining her face, it was not the same Tifelane I knew who stood in front of me. I guess I had infuriated her. She lifted her face. In collaboration with the stingy gaze she poured on me; I was now drowning in a pool of regrets. Then silence crept in. It was so silent that we both could hear each other’s heart beating.
She then raised her hand up. I closed my eyes, anticipating a slap for the foolishness I had just shown her. As soon as my eyelids flipped open, I realised her arms had fallen around my neck while her lips connected with mine.
Tell us: Have you ever had a similar experience? How did it go?