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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

A guide and a friend
2016-12-12

Description:Khothatso Mokone  Tags: Khothatso Mokone  longdesc=

Louzanne Coetzee and Khothatso Mokone.
Photo: Charl Devenish

Behind every successful Paralympic athlete is a guide, and behind blind athlete Louzanne Coetzee is none other than former Kovsie student Khothatso Mokone.

Mokone, who is a sports journalist and freelance photographer, says he is not entirely sure that his busy schedule is very balanced, but he tries to ensure he squeezes as much as possible into his day. One thing he always makes time for is his training. “As a young person, I try to take every opportunity that comes my way,” he says.

This young runner, who has been Coetzee’s guide for the past eight months, says that every race they have run together thus far has always been better than the last. “The partnership grows harmoniously every day. We talk about almost everything there is, not only running,” Mokone says.

Mokone guided Coetzee in the 1 500m of the Paralympics in Rio de Janeiro in September this year when she was disqualified. 

Mokone, who loves comedy and Dubai, is inspired by SAfm journalist and presenter Ashraf Garda. “He talks a lot about current issues that affect our country and I like his style of presenting. He is a good orator.”

Something people may not know about him is that he always walks around hopeful that the best is yet to come. “When I walk down the street, I walk with confidence and people think I have made it in life not knowing that I only have hope for a better tomorrow,” he says.

Although he is not yet as successful as he would like to be, Mokone encourages the youth to “open their eyes and ears to set realistic goals and work with patience to achieve each goal, whether short or long term”.

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