All through tea and then supper with my family I can’t stop thinking about him. I drop my plate, I can’t eat. I spill cooldrink everywhere. “What’s up with you?” asks my mom.

“Too much fun in the sun,” laughs dad. I excuse myself early and go to bed. But I can’t sleep. I am restless. All I can think about is the boy. It’s like he’s got inside my head and made himself at home there. I lie in the hot KZN night and put my earphones in. But even my R&B can’t distract me now. I see my cellphone light up, ten messages come beeping onto the screen.

‘Hey girl, waz up?’ kind of messages. I don’t even bother to read them. What my friends are doing suddenly means nothing. So this is love. It’s like a drug. It’s true. You can’t wait to get your next fix. I know what those poets mean when they say it’s agony and ecstasy and nothing in between.

When I finally fall asleep I dream that I am walking along the beach. It’s night. The full moon reflects in the water, with a silver shimmer. There is a warm breeze off the sea. It’s a beautiful night. But something is missing. I realise that I am looking for the boy. Perhaps I’ll find him at the rock pools but when I get there, there is no sign of him. I look down. There are footprints in the sand and they aren’t mine. I put my foot inside the footprint. It is bigger than mine. The toes more spread out.

It’s like the footprints are leading me somewhere towards a path that weaves up a slope into the forest.

I stop and look at the sign tacked to a tree where the forest begins. ‘Danger – Ingozi’, it reads. I should stop now, but I can’t.

It’s dark under the trees, but I am not scared. I don’t feel like I am alone. I feel like someone is calling me. The path winds under the low branches of trees that smell of salt and sea. I can’t see the other footprints, it is too dark under here. But the moon is full and I can make my way. Then I see a light at the end of the tunnel in the trees.

I come out onto the edge of what looks like an overgrown lawn. And there is the house ahead of me. It’s a double-storey, like you see in the rich suburbs of Soweto, but this house is old.

I shiver. It looks forgotten, sad. There is a flight of steps leading up to a big arched wooden door. Old flowers pots are placed on either side of the door, but they are filled with weeds, not flowers. There is an old swimming pool, but it is empty, and weeds push up through the cracks in the concrete. Light is coming from an upstairs window. As I stand and stare a shadow passes across it. There is someone up there …

“Wake up. Wake up.” It’s Mom. She’s shaking me. I sit up in bed.

“What?”

“You were having a nightmare. You shouted in your sleep.”

I shake my head, confused. But I hadn’t been frightened in my dream. And now there is no way I can get back there. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d opened that door.

Walked up those steps and found who was waiting in that room.

***

Tell us what you think: Have you been in love like this?