I’ve changed my outfit at least 15 times but at this point, I still have no idea what I’m going to wear. The whole thing has gone from an intimate braai and pool party with just family and friends to a full-blown cocktail party by the pool, which is basically a fancy pool party. Only there won’t be any swimming because the people will be a little overdressed for that sort of thing.

Zama insisted on vamping the whole thing up so she could make sure the party is “special” for Andy. I know that is code for making sure all her snobby friends feel comfortable around us ghetto folk.

I’ve spent the better part of a week picking out everything from decorations right down to the cutlery we’ll be using. I almost murdered Zama when she had us change the menu a third time. That woman can be so indecisive! Which is why I’ve ended up making most of the final decisions for a party that she has now turned into manual labour for everyone involved.

Once the food was sorted I had to take over organizing the alcohol because she needed to ensure she got Andy his outfit – so they would match. She almost drove me to insanity. And then trying to get a DJ to work the party was a mission and a half. I had to call in every favour I had. If I never have to plan another party again it will be too soon.

I won’t lie, as excruciating as the whole experience has been, planning this party has been a welcomed distraction. I know I made the choice to end things with Brandon because I want to be with Andy. But I didn’t expect it to hurt me as much as it has.

I think of him all the time, so much so, that I have to physically stop myself from calling him. I don’t think I made a mistake. I am in love with Andy and I want him. I guess I just feel guilty for leading Brandon on. He didn’t deserve that. And also, I felt like we really connected while we were together.

Plus, I was a coward. I couldn’t even face him. I sent him a text telling him I didn’t want to be with him and then avoided all his calls. When he finally showed up at my door I hid in my room while Tumi told him I didn’t want to see him.

His messages were sad. He just wanted to understand what went wrong, while I hid from the whole thing.

I was unfair to him, but I knew seeing or talking to him would only make things worse. It was better to just rip the cord. He’ll probably never speak to me again and that thought hurts. I wish I had handled things differently.


Tell us what you think: Is it okay to break up with someone via messaging, or should you always do it face-to-face? If face-to-face, why?