Ona wore her loneliness like an invisible noose around her neck, with fake gold earrings which would sizzle after extended contact with her earlobes, to match. She was single, in a foreign city (albeit 45 minutes from where she grew up) and looking for anything which would allow her to quell the overwhelming waves of loneliness. Living by herself, fresh out of Matric, in her first year of university she desperately pursued things which would help her feel less alone and in her feelings. Sometimes these things were in the form of drunken student nights in places where her melanated skin was a target on her back. Ona was sure Si didn't understand the weight of her solitude, like a boulder she carried with her in her tote bag, alongside her readings and exam pad.
Si was from a different province and she only went home twice their whole first year of university. She would always ignore her teasing and suspected that Si did not have the depth to feel certain emotions since she was constantly evading them by smoking a blunt with her loser friends from back home- Aqua and Mzandile.
After growing up in a big family with someone always kind of 'around' this was a painful adjustment to make. Sometimes Ona even missed the comfort of familiarity which is why one day she reached out to a girl she did not quite like from high school who was attending Stellenbosch University to find out how she was.
Ona: Hey Bee! 💕😊 How are you my girl?
Bee: I'm fine thanks.
Ona: Oh okay cool, I'm good thanks too. How is Stellies?
Bee: It's fine hay
Ona: Awesome! Tuks is good too😊
Bee: I bet...
Loneliness makes you do the weirdest things.
It was so embarrassing to feel so rejected in this way- why did Ona feel like she could seek solace from this self-centred air-head with more vodka in her bloodstream and cigarette smoke than oxygen in her lungs? She felt exposed, vulnerable and pathetic. Bee was well known for throwing parties while they were in high school and although they were not particularly friends, Bee had always invited Ona to her parties.
Ona felt so stupid. Why would she think that reaching out to Bee was the right thing to do when Bee was notoriously self-centered and obviously drinking the anti-Black kool aid of the university she currently attended. Why was she so cold?
She recalled a story of how a Black boy at one of the university residences had woken up to the stench of urine as one of his white Afrikaans res-mates soiled his book bag which held his textbooks and exam pad prepared for the next day. She wondered what it was about Black people white people hated so much.
Well, she had learned her lesson- Bee was not her friend or even acquaintance and this was the last time she would reduce herself to forcing herself on some random spoiled white girl, no matter what!
Ona remembered Gareth, and decided to check his daily update text for the day. He was so attentive- it made her feel warm and expectant inside.
Ona and Gareth spoke every day until he left early to go to attend university in Boston, Massachusetts. His speed on the athletics track landed him a fully funded scholarship to study in America. In the meantime though, they were in a talking stage which was ignited one magical night on a night out back home in Johannesburg North. Herself and a few of her first year out of high school peers in their private school bubble decided to link up at a local bar to catch up.
Ona remembered seeing Gareth enter the establishment from a far, her heart skipped a beat but she played it cool. One of her friends from as far back as grade seven to Matric, Fracine accompanied Ona to the unisex restroom to catch her breath. That, and she really just needed to pee after gulping two (or three?) brandy and cokes- she couldn't remember.
Ona exited the toilet cubicle after relieving herself, flustered on her way to wash her hands. While she had squatted over the toilet seat, she wondered if she should be an assertive baddie and go greet Gareth first or give cool girl and smile at him across the bar, enticing him to approach her first. She did not want to lose the opportunity to say hey because she looked like a snack! She KNEW she looked cuuuuute in her skinny jeans, black blazer with navy blue pin stripes rolled up to her elbows, two tone black and white pumps and chemically straightened hair in a messy pony with the iconic Paris Hilton poof. Her make-up was also "on fleek" so she was not concerned, in fact she owed it to herself to go say hey.
As she swivelled on her heel after drying her hands with two pieces of paper towel she had grabbed from the dispenser absentmindedly, she mumbled "Mmmm yeah, that's true," to a throwaway observation Francine and Linda (another one of her high school besties) had made after their time at the bar. She was shocked to be face to face with Gareth after her abrupt turn for the door to exit the shared space to wash hands. She was short of falling over him as she felt his cool breath on his face. They were in each other's personal space and it felt good. Her alarm that she was so close to him dissipated as she looked into his smiling eyes.
Ona had spent the last twenty minutes deciding if she should or shouldn't go up to him and how here he was, staring down at her with a mischievous glint in his eye as his generous palms rested on her shoulders holding her up to keep her balance from the surprise encounter.
She gushed when she woke up to his long, expressive messages answering whatever question Ona had asked him after his 10PM bedtime. He had told her that he is in bed by 10PM every night and up and 6AM. His discipline was hot and she really really really liked him.
Not only did she genuinely enjoy his company, but she looked forward to his detailed correspondence- his love letters made her feel less alone. Even without the hollow feeling of loneliness, she would choose him over and over again.