The end of my world

The end of my world.

It would be normal for people to think that it's crazy to love someone that does not exist.  I mean, who could blame them?  The sad part is quite normal to come up with a virtual lover, a dream lover or even a lover one can put together in one's mind. But what if its a dead lover? Someone u loved long ago who died, but one can't stop loving that person. Since his death, life went on, but everyone that attempts a relationship, gets compared with the dead lover.

I have tried numerous times to forget, but it seems like this is what life has set out or planned for me. You  know, I watch all kinds of ghost movies and reality shows about letting go, but I tend to feel that it's about other people. 
Many times over I have asked myself the question about being in love or loving someone who has passed on...lol... I used to think its plain crazy.  I suppose the "lol" is on me because I'm the victim of this farce called eternal love. 

This all started in 1982.   Geez! That's just over 30 years ago. I've never felt this old. I met him in church. I was late and found a seat just next to him. He shared his hymnal because I went to church without a hymn book or anything. I didn't even look at him and just blindly smiled a thank you. I went though the motions because everything was done in a different language. I was visiting my sister in Soweto for the the holidays and I was not so fluent in the African languages. I already had a bunch of friends in the neighborhood, and I was learning the language speedily. He was from the other side of the the neighborhood and was not accepted into the neighborhood that I was visiting. I learnt all that as he walked me home after church . It was all about territory. I didn't really give a hoot about the " territory" issue. For me, it was about the way I felt when I was with him and I can attest to the fact that no man ever made me feel that way and no man will ever, till my last breath, make me feel that way ever again. He was It for me and always will be. I was only 15 years old when we met. I knew nothing about boyfriends, love or sex. I am 47 years old  right now, divorced and have a teenage son, but what I can say about the time, way back when, is that I wish I could re-live it.   He taught me about love, music (jazz) , life and trust.
It's true that once you have met your soulmate, there is no turning back. I met mine in him, but he died.......so what now?

I got married to someone else because we had a fallout. Me and my dead lover. i I regretted that decision of marrying someone else, forever, but not what I gained from that marriage. A son, whom I love with all I am. 
The craziest part is that he loved my son as though he was his own, always telling me how he wished that my son was his and mine.  Yes , we still met after I got hitched.  By then, he was married, second time around. Thinking back, I remember when he used to tell me that I'm a keeper. I only wish he truly believed that.  

I left that life behind as soon as I got married, but I never, for a moment, stopped thinking about him, remembering him, wondering what he was doing. Not a day went by without me thinking about him. My ex- Husband never stood a chance. Well, he was never " husband of the year" material, but he gave me a son.  My ex husband was violent. I was a battered wife who tried several times to commit suicide, just to get out of that marriage, but God wouldn't have it that way. For years I endured the violence, but the one thing that kept me going, apart from the pep-talks I got from the doctors, was hoping and believing that one day, some day, I would meet him  again and my life would change.  The time finally came when a mutual friend of ours found my numbers and called to tell me that he was terminally ill. I wanted to die that day. It was almost 13 to 14 years since we parted. I had a son and my marriage was already falling apart. Devastation is not even the word I can use to describe my feeling. Crushed? No, the feeling was indescribable. I was living almost 500km away, but I took time off from work the same weekend and got into a taxi, hijacked my nephew's car since I didn't have a car at that ti me, and made my way to his house. He was discharged from hospital and was taken care of at home by his soon to be ex-wife. When I finally saw him, I couldn't hold back my tears. His wife knew about me, but she was quite welcoming and nice.  We chatted and we both realized that we had unfinished business.

But it was never to be. Too much had happened in our lives and I was a bit apprehensive about starting a relationship again with him, given his health issue. I felt like a dog for being so cowardly even though I knew I was not at risk of contracting what he had if I was careful. My soul cried for him every day. I moved back to Joburg where I could see him more often. My live in partner had an accident and landed in the hospital. It was a tough time for me and surprisingly, he was there to comfort me. When he came by one evening, I was so uncomfortable I had to pretend to be rushing out to the hospital. We had kissed, that day, after years of being apart. It felt good. It was not exactly an earth shattering moment, but it felt right. Maybe too right because after that kiss, I became  very uncomfortable. Could be that he was expecting a little more than the kiss as he pressed me down on the settee. I asked him to stop, and he did. He was that kind of man. He'd never force himself on anyone or take advantage of situations. We left the apartment together and he went in his car, and I in mine.  We made a pact to be no longer apart. A few weeks later it was New Years, and we all had a picnic at the lake. Him, me, my live in partner and members of my family with whom he was familiar.  It was a great time, but it was to be the last time I spent time with him. Over the next few months we called each other regularly, planning our next rendezvous. Then in March, a mutual friend called me with devastating news. He had been in a car accident and didn't make it. From that moment, my world stopped.