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12 December 2018 | Story Mothepane Lebopo

The door closed. My eyes opened.

My dreams were halted as I sat up. She was already outside my window, the midnight moonlight lit her skin and erasing my fingertips on her arms. I opened the window… cold truth blew in. It stung my heart. She was going.

“Seriously? After four months this is how you are going to leave?”

Silence.

She was trying to control her breathing, to keep it as flat as possible. She had a unique, annoying gift of being able to compose herself in such situations, especially when she knew it was needed.

She stared at me.

My heart was pounding against my chest. In anger. In desperation. It had settled on her, but clearly she wouldn’t let me get close to hers.

I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. I quickly wiped away the second one. She just stared…

She could have been looking at me, thinking of other things. With her you never knew. She turned.

“Wait, please wait. Did you ever love me?”

She stuck her tongue out and left.

And I knew that was it: we were over. Thinking back, I might have known for a while that it was coming. But still… being prepared for something doesn’t guarantee your heart won’t break when it actually happens.

I left the window open, slightly. My head was spinning and my heart was tearing.

I laid on what was supposed to be our bed and dug my head in a pillow in an attempt to block out reality. It was useless; warm liquid from my broken heart poured out through my eyes. All I could smell was her.

But what was I expecting? It could never work. We were two puzzle pieces from different sets. Two pieces that were never supposed to fit… We tried to force it, and it ended in pain.

She was such an odd person. She had this ‘forbidden love’ thing about her. Being hers was strange, I knew she wasn't mine but I still tumbled head over heels. Being with her was like cheating on a diet. Or texting when you’re supposed to study.

She had beautiful, wild eyes that had perhaps seen too much. She got high on other people’s vulnerability. When her arms locked around me, she wasn’t just holding me, she was searching for pain. Insecurity. She would pin me down and kiss my nose. When she felt my guard coming up, she would tickle me and my power would leave me and enter her. She always won.

Often we’d try to watch the stars. I could never concentrate, her beauty was fierce and demanded undivided attention. She couldn’t focus either. She looked at the stars, not for their beauty, but for adventure. She looked at them as a guide.

I felt her hot blood in her embrace, she had to move to keep cool. There was rarely a still moment. Always dancing. Always moving.

I guess that’s what attracted me to her. I made her my adventure. I wanted to see what she had seen. I told her I was happy where I was but in reality I wanted to go everywhere she went. Wherever the stars would take her.

My lips only met hers when she was drunk. Perhaps she didn’t want to remember showing a little bit of emotion, being a bit vulnerable in front of me. But even then she rarely shared her thoughts with me.

So her secrets are still with her, while she knows mine.

That wild girl, may I never hold her again. She said she didn’t like it. She wanted to feel liberated. And my arms didn’t offer her that.

The girl with a storm in her heart had started a fire in mine and left.

I look out the window, where she had been standing. I almost smiled. What was I thinking?  Thinking I could fix her? Whether I love her or hate her, it makes no difference because she’s not here. She’s not coming back.

I will never know what exactly she wanted with me. But I’ll grow wiser from this.

You can’t teach someone who’s power hungry to surrender. You can’t mould someone who despises being held. You can’t put out a wild fire. Don’t try to pick wild flowers, because their thorns will pierce your skin and then they will wither because of your blood. But their scent will linger forever.

Now I know. You can’t tame someone who is wild. You shouldn’t offer your heart to someone who has sold her soul to adventure.

Don’t try to love someone who can’t be still.

 

News Archive

Prof. Letticia Moja a winner in her category
2004-08-17

 

Prof. Moja a finalist in award 
'Every member of staff is important to me'

Michelle Cahill - Bloemnuus

IF you are in need of a dose of inspiration, try and get an appointment with Prof. Letticia Moja, the Dean of the Faculty of Health Science at the University of the Free State. It will not be easy as she has an extremely tight schedule, over and above being a finalist in the 2004 Shoprite/Checkers Woman of the Year competition.

 

Although not a born and bred Free Stater, this dynamic woman has come to love the Free State. "Once you get past the mindset of a small town and all the negatives surrounding it, it is an absolutely wonderful experience," Moja said.

Moja was born in Pretoria and grew up in Garankuwa as the second eldest of five children. "That was nothing special. I was not the eldest and I wasn't the youngest," she quipped. She had two younger brothers, one of whom died in a car accident and then two sisters.

She went to school in Pretoria and her first contact with the Free State was when she wrote her matric at Moroka High School in Thaba Nchu. "That was one of the best schools for us at that time," she says. After completing matric, she went on to study medicine in KwaZulu-Natal.

In 1982 she returned "home" and completed her internship at the Garankuwa Hospital. Hereafter she specialised in gynaecological obstetrics at Medunsa.

She became the head of the gynaecological obstetrics unit and later opened a branch in Pietersburg.

"This was just about the most heart-rending time of my life. You saw people travelling for up to three days just to see a doctor," she says. "Here we really interacted with the community."

In 2001 she was invited by the University of the Free State to apply for the job of vice-dean of the Faculty of Health Science. "I wasn't too keen," she says, "but they kept on calling to find out if I had applied or not," she says with a smile. "Eventually I gave in and was appointed."

She thought she would work a couple of years under Prof. Kerneels Nel, then the dean of the faculty. "Unfortunately that was not to be. I had hoped that I could learn from him," Moja says.

Prof. Nel died of a heart attack in 2003 after which Moja deputised for him before being appointed as dean.

"This brought along a whole newset of challenges," she says, "Now I have to work out budgets and I need to know what human resources are," she jokes. This has prompted her to take up her studies again and she is currently doing her MBA.

"It has certainly been a challenge to go into management and without my support structure I most certainly wouldn't have been able to do it," Moja says.

Moja is actively involved in her church and serves on various committees including the Health Professional Council where she is acting president of the Medical and Dental Board and the Provincial Aids Council.

To her no job is menial. She recalls when she used to have "high tea" with her staff in Gauteng and Limpopo. "One of the cleaning ladies used to think her job was menial. That is just not so. No hospital can do without even the lowest position. Imagine stepping over rubbish while you're trying to catch a baby. To me everybody is important no matter what you do. "

Moja's eldest daughter is studying for her B.Accounting degree at Wits . Her youngest daughter is in Gr. 9 at Eunice and she has also brought along her niece, who is in Gr. 8 at Eunice. "You see, we need to be three girls in the house."
She feels honoured to have been nominated by the institution especially as it is traditionally male-dominated. "It is not about me, but about the support structure. Nobody can do it on their own. It is a team effort."
BLOEMNUUS - VRYDAG 9 JULIE 2004

 

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