I wrote this story, and despite my best intentions, I couldn’t stick to the 30-minute time-frame. I started writing, and time simply slipped away. But, nonetheless, here it is.
In An Awkward Journey of Love, I revealed how challenging romantic relationships have been for me. The truth is, I find all forms of relationships difficult. For most of my adult life, I didn’t believe in friendship. I had people I liked and people I tolerated, but I thought friendship was beyond my reach. People are huggers - why, I don’t know, but they always want to hug in greeting. I am not a hugger. At all. I even struggle to hug my parents. Some people read my body language correctly and keep their distance, but many don't respect boundaries. This led to some awkward situations in the past where I reacted aggressively. This "hugging culture" only reinforced my issues with personal space.
For 16 years, I believed I’d never find love again. Then Burr and I reconnected on Facebook. He was still living in Secunda, but his parents had moved 3 hours away from me. Because of my aversion to friendship, I kept him at a distance at first. Initially, we were just casual acquaintances chatting on WhatsApp. When he visited his parents, we met up for coffee - one time. He made the 3-hour drive, and we spent hours talking. As we said goodbye, I surprised both of us by instinctively giving him a hug. He didn’t know it then, but that hug made a huge impact on me. I was surprised to discover that he was one of the few people in the world who could hug me.
Still, a voice in my head constantly whispered that just because someone could hug me didn’t mean they should. We remained casual friends for a while but eventually became close. During the COVID lockdown, we started dating over WhatsApp. We’d video call for hours every day, binge-watch Doctor Who together - each one at our respective homes - and have a running commentary on WhatsApp. We even cooked together over video calls. He taught me his special pancake recipe and we had fun.
Just before my birthday, the lockdown lifted, and after learning about my dislike for my own birthdays, he announced he was visiting for the occasion. Again, he made the 3-hour drive and spent the day spoiling me. At the end of the day, I gave him a hug and sent him on his way. Later that night, he let me know he wasn’t happy with just a hug - he’d expected a goodbye kiss. Since I’m terrible at reading between the lines, I hadn’t realized this. I responded with an essay asking him what he wanted from me! My son laughingly called what followed a lengthy "peace treaty negotiation, complete with the division of land and borders." But in the end, we officially became a couple.
When he visited again two months later in November, we got engaged and decided to marry in March 2021 so his mother, who had cancer, could attend. He often joked he was like a burr because he never gave up on us. Once, he accidentally called people with Asperger’s “you Asparagus people,” and I never let him live it down! From then on, his nickname became “Burr” (Klitsgras in Afrikaans), and mine became “Asparagus.” He wasn’t just my best friend; he was my person.
Sadly, his mother passed away in December, and we postponed the wedding out of respect. Around that time, with talk of renewed lockdowns, I relocated. During a business trip to Mossel Bay, I met a UX designer. We clicked instantly and stayed in touch via Google Meet. Over time, and after a stern talk from her about my views on friendship, she became my best (lady) friend.
A year and a half after Burr and I married, I invited her to visit to discuss a possible collaboration. The day before her flight, she informed me her parents had kicked her out and she had nowhere to go. Compassionately and without hesitation, I invited her to stay with us until she got back on her feet. That turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life thus far!
Three months later, she betrayed me in the worst way possible - she had an affair with my husband. He left me for her.
I lost my two best friends, my home, and had my heart shattered. I returned to Mossel Bay, but she continued to harass me until I blocked her on every platform and applied for a protection order. The court failed to summon her - twice - so the order never went through. For months, I had nightmares about her, waking up with earth-scorching anger. Eventually, I forgave her - not for her sake, but for mine. Anger can easily turn to hatred, and both poison the soul. All my anger was directed at her; none remained for my ex-husband. I still loved him, but eventually one day I woke up and realized I was over him.
From this, I learned to trust my inner voice - the one that told me, “Just because someone can hug you doesn’t mean they should.” I learned an expensive lesson about trust and friendship. I went back to having people I like and people I tolerate.
Or so I thought. Since then, I’ve discovered something different: connections. A select few people I can’t quite label but who are more than just people I like or people I tolerate. Some have been quiet constants in my life for years. Others are new. But all of them stepped up when I went through hell.
Maybe that’s what friendship is, after all.