From my Randy

My striker!
[Busy scoring goals for a dude, winning for a homie , playing for your tender G hahahaha!] My team player- slayer, my warrior!!

You’ve been such a blessing to me, my friend. Life in Pietermaritzburg has been an absolute joy, and you’ve contributed a large portion to that. I am so grateful for you, and I’ll never understand why I love(d) you so speedily and deeply: frankly, I’m not even going to try too. I have loved how we crashed into each other’s lives recklessly, I love every explosive sound and feeling that came from that crash. I’m also glad you are the one that spotted me first – I’m glad you came in for the kill, and even more so that I was the target.

I’ve loved our little “concerts” in your car, the all nighters we’ve had in the parking lot, just chatting the clock’s arms away. I can’t forget the mindless conversations that would follow as a consequence of the fatigue we’d inflicted upon ourselves. It’s clear we didn’t learn, because our hearts still refused to find logic in being apart, regardless of the adverse effects of our late nights.

I value the deep-lead-to-prayer-conviction-discipline-inflicting conversations. I love that God has always been the centre of our relationship.

My last Sunday with you:

That was, by far, one of the most intimate and deep encounters I’ve had with any one person. Standing there, in the presence of God in the church auditorium: we wept during worship, clinging so tightly to each other. We had not a care in the world of who was around us, watching – we worshipped God with our friendship. We shared the ugliest of cries, trying to figure out how we’d do thirty days without each other: nine hours apart. (Dramatic much?! )

In that moment God said something to me:

The picture of us crying so intensely at the thought of not being in each other’s presence is the kind of intimacy He longs for with us as the Church. He wants us to desire Him that deeply, if not more. He wants us to cling onto Him for dear life, and the answers of how we possibly could do it without Him. And because we’l never find the answers… we continue to hold on for dear life. Because ultimately, He is our Dear life. There’s nothing outside of Him, nothing else outside His presence will do. Nothing else will satisfy.

Iv loved dreaming with you. Iv loved watching you desire amazing things for me. Iv loved being loved by you. I enjoy you so much my friend. My heart is in pieces by the thought of not seeing you every other day. I wish I could bottle you and take you with me, defeat your battles for you and Love you best. But that’s not what love does. Love let’s go, it let’s you breathe. It’s selfless. Even if you find another me, or a better me. I’d still sing joyful songs over you. Because I love you enough to want and deeply desire the best for you ,even if it’s not me.

You are my family. Our body language intrigues me more often than not. That we both know just when to wink, or smile and laugh in the most unladylike manner at the same darn time! We lose our manners around each other, we let go of our “put-togetherness” . We let real come out. (Sometimes it’s the ridiculous side that comes out, ok.. ok.. not sometimes all the time ) I like that!

Iv loved how we’v discovered just how similar but different we are. The little gasps we made when we discovered we loved the same band or song, or places we’d love to go. I love how whenever I say something you’v thought of, or like you just give me a blank stare take off your glasses and go “YOU!! YOU!! You are my spirit animal” *unladylike laugh*

Our second last sleepover was the hardest. Driving me home… That was one of my longest drives. Pleasant and sore at the same time. Like- eating a sour worm, there’s a sweetness you can appreciate about it, but there’s also this sour side you cannot ignore. But in the end, it’s all sugar.

In the end.. our friendship is all sugar. Sauce and and…

I meant what I said, this friendship will go onto our children. And yes I still hold this statement true- I’d trust you with my kids. I’d trust you to make the last call if my mom couldn’t. You’d just need to discuss it with Denise *chuckle*

also thanks for letting me drop this here. Iv ruined your writer’s what what. Sorry I’m not a writer. Not sorry! *unladylike laugh*

i love you!


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