3rd December 2023🥀

Today is  the first Saturday,  with the relief of knowing that next week isn't school. It's one of those long Saturdays, where the warm sun stretches through the hours of the day, promising to set later.

I've spent the day with Mkhulu doing absolutely nothing. A dream!

There isn't much conversation, we simply bask in the safety of each other's presence. My mind is overwhelmed with the gushing, bursting thoughts of the future. My future.

My life has finally begun and everything from this moment forward is the building blocks to the man I want to be, the future I want to have.

Everything.

❄️❄️❄️

After a long afternoon nap, I wake up to the setting sun. The orange sun dips into the horizon, its rays spread into a line. The sky tints a shade darker, a star appears, promising night.

The blue curtains are drawn open, my room catching the last rays of the day. For a moment I  stay on my bed, eyes not  focused anywhere, getting used to my surroundings again after the knockout sleep I had.

The future, while exciting and beautiful is slightly overwhelming, building up a new pressure in my heart.

“I'll take it one day at a time,” I tell myself, breathing but the pressure won't relent.

I don't have to search within myself to know why. As the sun sets, the warm rays fading into something colder, all that goes through my mind is her.

There was nothing sad about this day, nothing that brought me to tears, or made me frown. Nothing hurt but as the sun sets, the day fading into a memory, I face the fact that it was another day without her.

And that hurts.

Seven days. It's been seven days since our last question. The person I saw everyday has quickly gone and become someone I might never see again.

“I thought she was my forever,” I whisper, talking to God, to myself.

And now, the sun has set, not a ray left. I shut my eyes, expecting the flow of tears but it remains dry.

Now, I'm left with the task of blurring, cutting and erasing Olivia  from my future. She made sense, so much so that  I subconsciously added her into every hope and dream I had for myself.

She was woven into my future, like she belonged there.

The picture of my future has always been in the back of my mind. Constantly changing, expanding,  and developing more intricacies. It was earlier this year when Olivia showed up into my life, and suddenly she fit into the picture, being placed in a space like she belonged there.

Now, the picture feels and looks incomplete without her.

Every dream, hope and milestone, I foolishly added her into is a picture that's without…

A chill  runs through me, the air colder than before.

Opening my eyes, I shun out the depressing thoughts, looking over my dark room. The windows are open, a breeze blowing in. I get up, pushing the blankets away. I shut the windows, closing the curtains only after getting a good look at the sky.

It's different in its dark hue, the stars glimmering, bringing the night to life. The moon hangs in the middle, a luminescent glow, not as bright as the sun but still beautiful.

Hope.

The door creaks open and the light from the hallway spreads reflecting in my room. Mkhulu peeks his head in, a  look of concern passing over his face. It's quiet  until he shakes off the worry. “It's movie night.”  He says, reminding me.

“It's movie night.” I repeat.

Mkhulu smiles, a warm, welcoming smile that melts all my troubles away. “Come on. Let's go.”

He pushes the door further open and I step out of the room, looking back only once, as if to reassure myself that the sun truly has set.

It has.

Mkhulu puts his arm around me, his words bringing me back to the present as we both walk towards the kitchen.

His smile is contagious, the joy in his dark eyes, a wonder. He explains the plot of the movie we are about to watch, careful not to give me spoilers.

It's an old  American cliché 90's movie about  love. It's  romance. I'm surprised Mkhulu chose this particular movie. It sounds too sweet for him but also  Mkhulu seems to have a slight annoyance for the main character William.

Today is Mkhulu's turn to pick a movie. The past few weeks, Mkhulu has been complaining about my choices. “This generation wouldn't know a good movie if it looked them in the eye.” Mkhulu said one time, with angry passion.

Mkhulu doesn't exactly have the best movie choices. He watches History documentaries that are sometimes good and most times— a struggle because my eyes won't stay open. He watches tragedies that are based on true stories because somehow those are satisfying, his words not mine. He watches old action movies, with women who still spoke with that old American twang.

Mkhulu and I set up the  snacks  we got from the kitchen on the black coffee table. Three yellow bowls, one filled with caramel salted popcorn, the other with original melted butter popcorn. A smaller bowl with peanuts and raisins. A jug of guava juice and doughnuts.

“So how good is this movie Mkhulu?”

“Good,” Mkhulu scoffs, “ I hate the movie.”

A pause, laughter breaks out of me. “Then why are we—”

“Just watch. I'm pretty sure you'll hate it just as much as I did all those years ago.”

I continue laughing. “ Mkhulu.” I stare at him, in disbelief.

“What?” He shrugs, settling onto the couch with a groan and reaching for the remote.

“I'll turn off the lights.” I volunteer, as Mkhulu works the remote, putting the movie on.

The lights go off, the whole house is dark except for the bright light that emanates from the television.

“Quickly it's starting!” Mkhulu calls, as the movie begins. I run, settling onto the couch beside him, grabbing the caramel popcorn bowl.

The intro ensues, the  companies involved in the making of the movie are advertised. Music plays, it's the chorus of a song, faint and catchy with a distinct tune. A beach comes into view, the sun setting as the waves crash. Then written in white cursive is the title of the movie— The American love story.

The  faint music dissolves into something louder until it crashes to a stop. The movie begins, it's a close cut to deep blue eyes.

Mkhulu grunts beside me, munching on his  popcorn. I glance at him, curious but he waves it off. “Just watch the movie.”

I turn to the television, amused. The close cut– to the deep blue eyes, holds.

A young male’s voice tunes in, playing over  faint music. “The summer before I fell in love with Lizbeth, I thought two things. One, I'd never find—” he continues speaking, the camera zooms out and we're now able to see more than just his blue eyes.

His summer blonde hair. The freckles dusted on his cheeks and his smile. A broad, easy, teeth glimmering smile.

“Great, he's smiling.” Mkhulu mutters, “ get used to that. There's gonna be a lot more of those…those smiles.” Mkhulu warns, like I should be shaking in my boots with disgust or fear.

I laugh; Mkhulu shakes his head.

“I'm William.” The voice over continues, as we watch the character run through the crowd in the airport with two bags of luggage.

“ — father always knew  but the summer before Lizbeth, I didn't know what I didn't know. I didn't love. I couldn't spell L-O-V-E with my eyes closed. I didn't know what it was, not even when I searched the definition a thousand times. Until she showed me…I was waiting for her.For Lizbeth.”

“Oh barf!” Mkhulu complains, throwing popcorn at the television.

I chuckle but Mkhulu's annoyance for William seems to have blinded him from me.

“Mkhulu, you chose this movie.” I remind him.

He waves me off, his face pinched in annoyance. “I know, just watch.”

And that's what I do. I watch the movie, ignoring Mkhulu's side comments, or faint grunts.  The character William is the living definition of the American dream boy in the 90s.

The movie itself is a cliché of cliches and everything is expected and predicted. It's those movies where you know how it will end but you want to see how it will play out.

Mkhulu's annoyance for William only seems to grow as the movie continues. It makes for a good laugh and lots of curious glances given to him but he doesn't explain himself.

William, I must admit, is an annoying character. He's too perfect—it hurts. It makes me uncomfortable. His only flaw is being misunderstood.

He's also equally toxic, it's alarming what this girl cannot see.

He was probably written by some lovesick woman  because he's so ethereal, so unrealistic that he makes every ordinary guy look bad.

He's a teenager but somehow he's able to organize grand romantic gestures for Lizbeth, not to mention him always going out at night without having anyone to answer to.

William is what many girls I know would call swoon worthy and many guys I know, would change the channel from.

We're midway into the movie, where Lizbeth and William are madly in love, emphasis on the mad. Lizbeth is a beautiful brunette, with forest green eyes, and the sweetest voice. William and her are on the rooftop, staring at the stars, holding each other, sharing dreams.

“You're my forever Lizbeth.”

“—I think,” Mkhulu cuts in,  “ the movie would improve significantly if they muted all of William's lines.”

I laugh, sharing his sentiments but also…

As cliché and cringe The American love story is, it makes me miss my love story, the one that was written before I knew it was beginning, the one that ended abruptly like the writer was snatched from her desk.

“I would bring you the stars, the moon and the sun Lizbeth. I'd do it for you.”

Mkhulu scoffs,” He couldn't even bring her goat cheese.I hate this movie…just as much as I hated it all those years ago.” Mkhulu pauses, reminiscing. “Some things never change.”

I have more questions but Mkhulu still hasn't answered the first few, so I keep them to myself, waiting for the movie to end.

The movie continues and honestly, I'm mostly watching Mkhulu's reaction to every scene that plays. It's quite entertaining.

But there's a particular scene that captures my attention, Mkhulu's snide remarks fading.

Lizbeth is crying in her room, throwing knives at William's picture that's hung on her wall. She ugly cries, mascara running down her cheeks and her  lipstick smudged.

It's raining heavily outside her window, then there's a rock that hits her window. She stops crying, and hears more rocks hitting her window. She opens the window, and there standing in the rain, three storeys down is  William, the American dream boy. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. A white shirt that's soaked to his skin, revealing abs.

William holds  a radio up to his head and it plays a love song. The song is loud and  soulful. William stands in the rain, drenched but somehow even more handsome with his sad boy face.

"What are you doing here William? My father, he'll kill you." She looks behind her, expecting someone to barge in from the noise.

"Let him kill me Lizbeth!" William shouts over the music. "At least I will die  knowing I  told you everything that's in my heart!"

"—Can you believe this garbage." Mkhulu cuts in. " I mean what fool would—"

"Shhh Mkhulu. I'm watching." I focus on the television, the movie having come to a part that might just be life changing. Might.

"I guess I found the fool."

"I'm a dirty drunk Lizbeth. Drinking my problems away. I ain't no saint. I've done a couple things in my life. Things I ain't proud of but Lizbeth...Lizbeth I love you. I love you!"

The door to Lizbeth's home is opened abruptly and Lizbeth's father steps out. A bulky, white man fuming with a gun. He shoots at the rain, missing William by a hair.

Lizbeth screams, louder than the music and for some reason I laugh. Mkhulu laughs too.

"Daddy, don't kill William. I love him!" Lizbeth runs towards the door, forcing the door open but it's locked.

“ I told you to stay away from my daughter!” Lizbeth’s father holds  William's gaze, with striking eyes.

Then, a gunshot. Even Mkhulu tenses beside me.

❄️❄️❄️

The movie ends. The credits roll in and a slow and acoustic song plays, a  fade from the happy ending.

The snacks on the coffee table are practically licked clean, not a crumb left. I turn to Mkhulu, my heart still floating on the high of the happy ending. A satisfied grin on my face.

They ended up together!

“That was—” I begin.

“The worst movie ever. I know.” Mkhulu says, like he can read my thoughts.

“I was going to say something else…entirely.” I start off, but the words fall short. The movie left quite an impression on me, one I didn't notice until the credits rolled in.

My mind and heart is saturated with the gold of the movie, everything that made it good and funny and sort of everything I needed right now. Underneath that I feel like there's more. I feel—

“This was your grandmother's favourite movie when we met.” Mkhulu breaks through to my thoughts.

The look in his dark eyes is the same nostalgic tender look he always has when Gogo is the subject. The gleam in his eyes, reaches to the curve of his lips. He looks at me, telling me the story but it's like he's not really looking at me. It's like Mkhulu is looking past me, like he's reliving the memory as he plays it out for me.

“We were acquaintances at the time, still young. Both of us were with other people. We met at an  old rundown movie theater in our neighbourhood. Back then it was cheaper, the movies, more...meaningful. It was always packed. That particular day, the seat next to hers was the only empty space."

"..."

"The American love story played. I hated it. Every second. I found fault in everything and voiced my complaints. She laughed, explaining that I didn't have the heart for love—whatever that meant.” Mkhulu chuckles, softly.

His eyes hold mine,warm. “ She started monologuing, something she did— a lot and it was all about love. I won't lie. I don't remember everything she said, only   bits and pieces  but I'll never forget the look in her eyes as she spoke about love…a love that she thought was real. She told me she believed in love, she told me she wanted a love that was worth dying for. I told her she was crazy.”

We laugh.

“She said some other stuff. She used these big words. Fancy words that I hadn't heard before. She spoke English with this privilege…she was different. I argued against her all night but deep down I wanted to believe…I wanted to believe Leo in loving foolishly, hopefully with full devotion. I think she saw that. That's why she said we should meet again, the next time ‘The American love story’  played. I told her it was unlikely that they would play the film again because it was terrible. She told me if it was coming on, I had to be in the movie theater and I had to look for her. The next year…” Mkhulu's smile, finishes of his story, the gleam brighter.

“The movie played again, didn't it?”

Mkhulu nodded. “And the year after that, and the next and the next. When we finally got together, we continued watching the movie once every year, like  tradition. I still hated it, hiding nothing but she still saw beauty in the dust.”

Mkhulu stays quiet, the silence alive with the warm, fiery, memories of my Grandmother. The greatest woman I've ever known.

Mkhulu's eyes are distant, happy. I stare at the television, that's still rolling in the credits and the gold of the movie that has saturated me leaves me speechless.

Then a particular scene in the movie comes back to me, a lightbulb, like a sign from God. The scene with William in the rain, standing outside Lizbeth's home.

Furthermore, Lisa's words click,  like they were lost in translation before. —'Let me give you a hint. Shy girls.... spelling their feelings out....but they do like hinting at it.'

Hint.

Olivia's eyes flash in my memory, those warm brown eyes, with eager openness. The memories of us, the questions, the kisses, the pain, the tears and comfort. It all comes back in a rushing wave of emotions and then her last words click. Falling into place, like they were waiting for me.

“Lot's of things have been said and done, Leonardo.At the end of this, I guess we'll see…”

“How could I not see this before! The yelp tears out of my chest, I stand abruptly from the couch, my heart racing.

Mkhulu looks at me like I've grown three heads. “And then?”

I'm breathless, my thoughts overlapping with each other, my heartbeat loud. “Mkhulu I have to go.”

“Are you insane? It's the middle of the night.” Mkhulu stands up, he places his hand on my forehead, checking for a fever. For insanity.

“Mkhulu you don't understand. I have to go.”

“Why?”  His brows furrow deeply.

“Olivia's waiting for me.”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

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