Last week Friday, my best friend for the past 7 years moved away. Luckily just to another province, but it may as well have been another continent. I took the day off of work, so that we could spend the morning together and have breakfast, before she made her 5 hour drive up the map to the Free State. Her decision was made last year, but her destination changed twice before she finally decided where she was going to end up.
V has her head screwed on the right way, whereas I don’t. And that’s one of the many reasons that we clicked. V has had her share of heartache and drama; from cheating ex-husbands leaving her in financial distress, to abusing boyfriends, to working 2 jobs trying to make ends meet. And you know what? It has all paid off. V doesn’t have a job to go to, but she has a savings kitty to fall back on, plus her mom plus the most AMAZING boyfriend. V has worked her backside off these past few years; she hasn’t sat back and waited for life to be fair; she’s gone out and demanded her piece of it.
You always know where you stand with V. She says it like it is. Our one truly awful fight in December 2010 almost broke me, because not having her in my life was so wrong, it felt unnatural. The other fantastic thing about V, is that she knew how to keep business and personal separate. We met in 2007 when I started my previous job, and over the years she’s taught me, criticised me, given me warnings, but then after work we’ve gone out for supper or drinks, or a girls’ night out where I’ve woken up the next morning wondering how the hell I ended up on her couch!
M-L ADORES V. I mean ADORES. You’d think that V was her mother instead of me! We went out for supper a few weeks ago (that was the night that the waiter let M-L out into the parking lot) and the way that M-L squealed when she saw V on the other side of the restaurant, and then ran towards her at full speed, and literally threw herself into her waiting arms, had the whole restaurant looking our way, and every person watching us had the goofiest grin on their face, because even they could see the love emulating from my daughter to V.
V and I have laughed together, cried together, we’ve even fought together (although I’m happy to report not that much) and right now, at this point in time, I feel hollow. A piece of my heart is missing, and it’s sitting in Welkom. Most Wednesday’s after lectures I’d stop at V’s house as it was on the way home, and I keep having to remind myself that I mustn’t do that tomorrow, because she doesn’t live here anymore.
My heart is sore.
My heart is weeping.
My heart is broken.