Dineo



I stepped out of the airplane onto the Gauteng tarmac, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. The moment my feet touched the ground, my heart started racing, pounding in my chest like a wild stallion. The adrenaline surged through my veins, causing my hands to sweat profusely. I wiped them on my jeans, but they only seemed to get wetter, my anxiety taking hold.

As I settled into the backseat of the cab, the driver, a man named Anthony, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “You look nervous,” he observed with a knowing smile. His eyes seemed to penetrate my soul, as if he could sense the turmoil within me.

“I am,” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper. Anthony’s smile widened. “Is it because of a guy?” he asked, his tone gentle and understanding.

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the complexity of my emotions. “Is he your boyfriend?” Anthony inquired, his curiosity piqued.

I shook my head, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration. “I don’t even know what we are at this point,” I admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Considering how nervous you are, you must care about him a lot,” Anthony remarked, his eyes filled with empathy. I shrugged, unable to articulate the depth of my feelings.

Anthony shifted the conversation, sharing anecdotes about rude passengers he had encountered in his line of work. As he spoke, I found myself lost in my own thoughts, questioning the path I had chosen. Doubt crept in, casting a shadow of uncertainty over my resolve.

Do I even know what I am doing? I pondered silently. But it was too late to turn back now. I had come all this way, and there was no going back. With a sense of determination, I bid farewell to Anthony as I stepped out of the cab, my heart pounding in my chest.

Standing before the rustic gate, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Each beat echoed in my ears, a reminder of the intensity of my emotions. With trembling hands, I raised them to the door and knocked, the sound reverberating through the silence.

As I waited, the seconds felt like an eternity. Doubt gnawed at my resolve, but before I could knock again, the door swung open. Menzi, his eyes widened in surprise, froze upon seeing me standing there.

“Dineo?” he uttered, his voice laced with confusion. Blinking several times, as if to ensure I was real, he invited me inside, his gaze filled with a mix of astonishment and anticipation.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” I apologized as Menzi closed the door behind me, creating a bubble of privacy between us.

“Forget about that,” he reassured me, offering me a seat. Joining me, he couldn’t hide his disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me neither,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here to find answers.”

Menzi nodded, his eyes fixed on mine, their intensity unyielding. “I’ll answer any question you may have,” he promised, his voice steady and sincere.

“You said you were scared, scared that I would hurt you,” I began, searching for the truth hidden within his guarded heart.

I watched as Menzi’s trembling hands clasped tightly together, his eyes filled with sadness and vulnerability. With a deep breath, he mustered the courage to speak the words that had been weighing on his heart. “I have a fear that consumes me,” he confessed, his voice quivering. “The fear of abandonment.” His gaze remained fixed on his hands, as if searching for solace in their grasp. The room fell into a heavy silence as he continued, his voice laced with pain. “My father left me before I even took my first breath, and when I was thirteen, my mother walked away, leaving me all alone.”

He rolled up his long-sleeved shirt, revealing a tapestry of bruises and scars that marred his skin. The sight sent a shiver down my spine, each mark representing a painful chapter of his past. “These scars,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “they were inflicted by my mother. She would beat me relentlessly, using a thick electric cable. Day after day, my arms would be stretched out, defenseless against the blows.”

As he spoke, his eyes never left mine, filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “Love,” he confessed, “is a foreign concept to me. I have never experienced it in my life. I couldn’t allow anyone to enter my shattered world, for I feared they would leave, just like my parents.” His voice quivered with raw emotion as he mentioned my name. “But then, Dineo, I met you.”

Menzi rose from his seat, running his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “I didn’t understand this warmth that enveloped me whenever I was with you,” he admitted, his voice now tinged with regret. “I tried to push you away, thinking it would make the feeling vanish. But instead, it only made me yearn for you more. I’m sorry, Dineo, for the pain I’ve caused you.”

My prepared response faded into oblivion as I beheld Menzi in this vulnerable state. In that moment, his words painted a vivid picture of a wounded soul desperately seeking love and understanding. And as I looked into his eyes, I knew that I held the power to heal his scars and help him find the love he had been deprived of for so long.