I gave him a second chance because I really loved the guy. And besides, he was literally fighting for it with the strength of each dropping tear. He immediately brought out the jellies. He put the Grape flavoured tot in the centre and interpreted it with a kiss.

“I am Pat. I am sad because of my past…Where I come from. I want to change my future, but I am tucked away within the shadow of my past. Every time I go home, it hits me so bad. My dad drinks like the bottle is a rain cloud in the storm. He’s a womaniser. As for my mom, she just perseveres for the community, avoiding stigma. He works, but he may as well be a part of the unemployment statistics as the cash just goes through the drain. We lived in a shack until the RDP helped us, but still, things are going bad; violently. What hurts me the most is always finding my mom being brutally injured; it scares me to death.”

I swear to God, I cried a bit when I saw Pat weeping for help. It was not over for him; he moved on and picked the Lime tot.

“Here I am, coming from home to Gauteng with a light to shine through my education.”

But before he could continue, my class was on. The awkward thing was, he kept holding me tightly and with a disappointed look. Call me selfish, but all I wanted was someone to be there for me. But the state he was in, he surely needed to see madam Lizzy – our university’s counsellor. I could not organise the session myself as “What happened to minding your own business?” would surely follow.

For weeks, I wondered if things would go back to normal. Surely, he started picking up his face. Those late nights, holding and kissing me were coming along very slowly. I needed more as it had been too long. I was missing him awfully. Weeks went by and I could not go on with this pain in my heart, because it was just too much to handle.

Mid-terms came and my exams were making me nervous, which I did not mind. But everything was turning me to him no matter what.

“I have practicals to study for,” he said as he left.

Hook ups were so slim and the everlasting kiss that we were practicing was faltering. Emotional abuse rang in my mind, and it was the second time trying. It felt like I was chasing the unreachable smell. I mean what happened to, “If he loves you, he will make time for you no matter how busy he is”? I would sit on the benches and wait for him, while he left me hanging. This hurt my image of Mrs Butti Fruttie to say the least.

Some ordinary day, I remember being invited to his presentation, but what was weird was that I was invited as a guest. This was so surprising, because the event was for university students and, as one of those students, I was automatically invited. My mind was raving with gladness when he started showcasing his ideas of turning Civil Engineer into a life of social change for community developing.

For a minute, I forgot the loneliness and remembered why I fell in love with the guy. Pat was really good at this field and the “Go, go and attack” spirit. Yes, indeed he won the best student researcher of the year for the Civil Engineering department, including a cash prize worth R20 000.

Look, it was so sad to see that nobody from his family was there. The awkward moment came when he called me to the stage to celebrate the victory with him. I am not even family. I mean, where is Mommy? Dad? Siblings? Of course, always trying to hide reality, they were all busy and the hashtag came to my mind #whatever. I am not a mind reader but I could tell he was so disappointed and sad. I mean, what kind of family does that? I would leave that to God for judgement.

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Tell us what you think: Do you think Pat’s family cares about him?