Where I am now, mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally and everything else that is part of mind and feelings necessary to make sense of survival is broken. I am at a place unlike anything I have experienced in life.
To me, friendship matters a lot. I think it is especially more important if you have a friend who speaks your heart language. There are friends who speak words, then there are friends who speak love, encouragement, understanding and life itself.
Some friendships must be God’s way of making himself present in our lives … because, some friendships are blessings. Some friendships are laughs, silliness and tender hugs. Some friendships and especially the best ones are built on overlooking imperfections, that are all too prevalent in us. Some friendships are love, life and warm breadths. Some friendships are all about making memories.
But what happens to our souls when this kind of a friendship breaks. When you can no longer be forgiven for your mistakes, when that person, without any form of warning gets out of your life?
‘Ask me What Happens’ …
I’ll tell you, but even then, unless you have experienced it yourself, you cannot understand this avalanche.
Look, on mornings, anxiety grips you mercilessly, the heart beats fast, it is like a camel has stepped on your chest, the animal’s weight presses in hard. Then your mind roams, searching for a reason, for the cause. Could it be that you are having a muscle pull next to the heart? No, it cannot be a muscle pull, you have never gone to the Gym at least once in your life to count as cool. Muscle pulls only come to those who stretch some. You are by design lacking muscles to stretch. It’s a dark confusing moment.
All the while, subconsciously, you think about your broken friendship. On mornings you would get a funny text, random text, a silly text on WhatsApp … on your way to work, you would reply to the text, use lots of emojis, because what is a text without an emoji anyway! then all the hell would break loose for a moment in that WhatsApp Chat, back and forth, jokes and soft roasts. You throw a punch, she throws one, then abruptly it ceases. It occurs to you that she has left her house heading to work too, or she went to shower. You know because you have spent enough time together on this world to know.
All that noise in the morning, on WhatsApp, was not because there a problem being tackled or an issue to discuss, that noise in the morning was our way of saying ‘good morning dearest.
On this day when anxiety is holding you by the balls it suddenly occurs to you rather unceremoniously that you haven’t had texts come through your phone like they used to.
‘mister hi! No such Text in the last 20 mornings,
‘mister check out this blog!’ No such text in the last 20 daylights,
‘mister you sleep early like a baby’ No such text in the last 20 evenings.
On this morning, it occurs to you that you have not played chess too, you always loved playing chess with this love, mind chess that is. You do not have means of texting her your soft breadths of silliness, because she has blocked you on phone.
‘hun get a boyfriend! (you would literally log off the phone after texting such, because you knew she would throw missiles your way) … you loved her missiles, they landed a pleasurable punch.
‘dear, do you feel like being treated for a coffee today?
‘girl, I have this idea.
When she won in conversations and high energy discourses, which was often, you had a whole sack of two words … bure kabisa, (fruitlessness). At such moments, when you text those two words you knew she had won and you were trying to save a face. In the last 20 mornings, days and nights, you have not had a chance to text her. You have always texted her in the last 900 mornings, days and nights until everything the two of you did became part of your DNA.
Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety… then it starts hurting, this time, a camel is too light weight, this time an elephant is stomping on your chest, you wake up, take a difficult shower and imagine how good life was, somehow you still await a text … ‘If you want to talk, I have half a chance for you, meet me at Java at 5 pm’
We have had a lot of cuppas at Java Café. At Java Café we have discussed politics, goals, plans and way forwards. At Java Café we came up with a very intricate Implementation Matrix for each of our personal goals. At Java, we poured our emotional and mind energies on each other. At Java Café we became connected.
Sometimes we tried new coffee shops. Who am I kidding? We tried new coffee shops all the time, even when we didn’t have money, we simply substituted the pastry with a cheap one, or just shared one, because sharing was our strongest faculty.
This friendship was built on shortness and tallness literally. She is tall, elegant and a very good dresser. You on the other hand, are this mass of shortness, weird dressing and baldness. She liked you either way. See, friendship knows no boundaries, you liked her to death of course. All the fucking time, you went out, spent time together, did stuff together, invested both your fears, she assured you, encouraged you, boldly told you what your weaknesses are and were.
On the other hand, you were her greatest cheerleader, together you did ballistic tests on ideas, she is strong, ambitious, and tenacious, she came up and still does come up with many cool ideas, when some failed, you encouraged, when some worked, you cheered, those that worked, were and are pure greatness, pure genius.
900 Mornings, Days and Nights, spent building a support system between the two of you.
On this day, you leave your house, and while heading to work, you meet in the streets, you take a glance ahead, see her and your heart literally skips a beat … what to do, what to do, will she stop … you pull a ‘hi’, after passing by each other like random strangers, it hits you that she didn’t ‘hi’ back, your heart breaks in ways it has never broken before.
What to do … What to do …
900 days, your created love, 900 mornings you talked life, 900 nights you talked goals, generated hearty laughs, and you always looked forward to seeing her.
‘You are toxic, I have decided to cut you off’……,
These words I remember made me feel utterly disoriented. I died twice. I died one for me, and another round for my ancestors, my ancestors refused my dying for them, so here I am breathing, … ‘son, you have to be strong, here we are dead, here we do not know love or friendships, here we are spirits, we exist for the mere fact that we exist, its cold, we watch you, and that’s all we do, watch’ son, hold your heart together, try and live.
Sometimes when we make mistakes, it surprises the person who has been wronged and the wrong doer. The latter meditates through his actions and he arrives’ at a conclusion … yes, I have wronged, I need to apologize, and I need to do it now.
But it happens you cannot be forgiven … ‘Please hurry up and finish your apology and go, I do not need it, I do not even know why I am tolerating your apology! The only respect I have for you is to tell you that you toxic, I cut you off, don’t call, don’t text, I have blocked you anyway’
That night you cry, you cry so hard for a man, so deeply for a man, so affectionately for friendship, so genuinely the world trembles.
Love is a noun. People say they are in love, people think love is a feeling. When a person say’s I loved her, and she broke my heart, what they are saying is that they felt, and suddenly, the girl unfelt them. What is love anyway if not actions. It’s not a disembodied feeling.
Because love is silly in many ways and commoditised in many ways, friendship becomes the only pure thing there is and the one or two people we spend our emotional energies on daily become our real friends.
Forget feeling hurt because you have a misunderstanding, that’s a cup of cheap tea. Hearing certain words come out of your friend, and a friend in the truest meaning words can manage, hearing your heart beat tell you that you are toxic, and I cut you off, is the mother of all Pain in the world. People know nothing, you know nothing of pain until you hear those words come out of your support system.
If there was a feeling of pain a person might have, were a heart to be pulled out through the mouth, this is the feeling. I cry for her, I miss her, I die 50 times when I remember those words. Yet, you do not blame her, all you need is forgiveness, all you need is to sit at Java together, take coffee, share a pastry and say something silly …
You have very short hair, where do you come from?
Then you laugh so hard because you know the reply will come in hard and without chills.
All you crave and all you miss is your heartbeat, your soul friend.
It is easy to fault your heartbeat and say she was cruel for refusing to forgive you. It is even easier to Imagine that she betrayed you by cutting you off like that. Even easier to convince yourself that she was selfish for hurting you this way.
But, look at it critically, what part could you have contributed to this turn of events? Could you for a mini second place yourself in her shoes, could you forgive you? I certainly could have forgiven myself, were I in her shoes and the fact that my mind is convinced I could have forgiven myself proves that I have not fully comprehended the disappointment she underwent.
Maybe I will never understand that disappointment, Maybe I am too busy paining to reflect objectively, maybe Ill spend months missing, paining and regretting and fail to reflect objectively, but one thing I am learning through this pain is that I was real in that friendship, she was real in that friendship, we never had moments of pretence. We dived in hard, played hard and buddied hard, we were rock stars in this friendship thing, we had figured and patented the formula for deep connections, we were a hurricane, a force of nature.
Where I am now, mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally and everything else that is part of mind and feelings necessary to make sense of survival is crashed. I am at a place unlike anything I have experienced in life.
Where I am now, when other friends get to know that we no longer speak or exchange indiscernible personal jokes, they call it childish. They call it a silly thing. They use words like, grow a pair’, they Imagine themselves comforters by sharing among themselves the facts of our not speaking and they laugh, without realising the weight of that crashed world.
Only I know what level of friendships that was. Only you know the beauty of that friendship. Nobody else out here seems or might understand what we were.
Should a miracle happen, should heavens cry with Joy, and we reconnect, I shall tell you why I shall always guard this friendship against a recurrence of this mountain of pain. That friendship was a patent.
If a miracle happens, and our hearts speak to each other, we shall share a coffee, and I shall tell you It was painful, It was a dark day in Paradise, It was a hellish day when you qualified my heart beats as toxic, It was a heart breaking day when I realised I had pushed you to the abyss of stating such words.
I have learnt new things; I hope, I miss you, and I can’t wait to show you the kindness, warmness and mercies I have learnt in sustaining Friendship. Solitude has me dead chuffed at how good you were at this friendship thing.
All I do is hope that I can find your favour and mercy.
Lastly, too often, I quickly took up being on the wrong even when I was not, so that forgiveness could occur quickly enough for us to resume friendship. Too often I became the ‘guy on the wrong’ deserving or undeserving. I was okay with it so long as we could move on to good times fast. This time, I took up being wrong, or I wronged, but this time, the duck came home to roost. It was imagined I always wronged to begin with, it was imagined it was only one person who wronged from the start. This time, my short cut to resolving matters fast found a fork road. This time, having spent 3 years ditching old friendships and forming new ones, I finally find a firewall I do not know how to write a code on, but you.