It's all too bad to be true (a move on chapter)

This is it..

November marked the beginning of something new something I had both feared and longed for. Nontombi and I started dating, but the road to that point was anything but smooth. Jack had become increasingly toxic to Dimpho, and their relationship was falling apart. Meanwhile, I had mustered the courage to confess my feelings for Nontombi in a text, only to disappear afterward, terrified of her response. But she surprised me. She took it well, and just like that, we were together.

Our first kiss was electric, a moment that felt like the culmination of all the tension and chemistry we’d built up over the months. It led to an intimate night, one that left us both breathless and unsure of what to say afterward. Three days later, we went on our first official date. It was simple just a walk around campus, holding hands and stealing glances but it felt like the start of something real.

By December 6th, we were both heading home for the holidays. Nontombi went back to Soweto, and I returned to Lydenburg. The distance between us was daunting, but we made it work through video calls and texts. Some days were beautiful, filled with laughter and shared stories. Other days, we fought small arguments that felt magnified by the miles between us. But we held on, determined to make it work.

When 2022 arrived, we found ourselves back in Potchefstroom, reunited after weeks apart. The reunion was everything I had hoped for. Nontombi’s smile, her laugh, the way she fit perfectly into my arms it all felt right. But things were different this time. Dimpho wasn’t with us. She had broken up with Jack and moved on, choosing to focus on herself rather than jumping into another relationship.

Without Dimpho around, Nontombi and I had more time to ourselves. We explored the city, tried new restaurants, and spent lazy afternoons in my room, talking about everything and nothing. But as much as I loved being with her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The distance had changed us, and the fights we’d had over the holidays lingered in the back of my mind.

One evening, after a particularly long day of classes, Nontombi and I got into a heated argument. It started over something trivial a missed call but quickly escalated into a full-blown fight. She accused me of being distant, of not putting enough effort into the relationship. I fired back, saying she was being unreasonable, that I was doing my best.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I feel like I’m the only one trying to make this work.”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back. “I’m trying too. But it’s not easy when you’re always picking fights over nothing.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. We both knew we’d crossed a line, but neither of us was willing to back down. Eventually, Nontombi stormed out, leaving me alone in my room, staring at the door she’d just slammed shut.

The next few days were tense. We avoided each other, both too proud to apologize. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t let this go on. I missed her. I missed the way she made me laugh, the way she looked at me like I was the only person in the room. So, I swallowed my pride and went to her.

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing awkwardly in her doorway. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I was frustrated, but that’s no excuse.”

She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I’m sorry too,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not easy for you either. I just… I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t,” I promised, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

As the weeks went by, we fell back into our rhythm, but the challenges of a long-distance relationship were always there, lurking beneath the surface. We tried to make the most of our time together, but the reality was that we were both busy with school and life. The fights became more frequent, and the distance felt more suffocating than ever.

One night, after a particularly draining day, I called Nontombi, hoping to hear her voice. But she was distant, her responses short and clipped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

“Nothing,” she said, but I could tell she was lying.

“Nontombi, talk to me. Please.”

There was a long pause before she finally spoke. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this anymore. The distance, the fights… it’s too much.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What are you saying?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying I need a break,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need to figure out what I want.”

The next few weeks were a blur. Nontombi and I were on a break, and it felt like my world had been turned upside down. I threw myself into my studies, trying to distract myself from the ache in my chest. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Dimpho noticed. She had become a constant presence in my life again, offering support and advice. “You’ll get through this,” she said one evening, handing me a cup of coffee. “Whether it’s with Nontombi or without her, you’ll be okay.”

I wanted to believe her, but it was hard. I missed Nontombi. I missed the way she made me feel, the way she understood me in a way no one else did.

One evening, as I was sitting in my room, staring at the blank screen of my laptop, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Nontombi standing there, her eyes red and puffy.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice trembling.

I nodded, stepping aside to let her in. We sat on the edge of my bed, the silence between us heavy and suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have asked for a break. I was scared, and I took it out on you.”

“I’m sorry too,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I should have been more understanding. I should have tried harder.”

We talked for hours, pouring out our fears and insecurities, our hopes and dreams. By the time the sun rose, we were both exhausted but relieved. We had found our way back to each other, and this time, we were determined to make it work.

The rest of the year was a mix of highs and lows. We still fought, but we learned to communicate better, to listen to each other’s needs. The distance was still a challenge, but we found ways to bridge the gap weekly video calls, surprise visits, and endless texts.

Dimpho, meanwhile, had found her footing. She was thriving, focusing on her studies and her friendships. She and I had settled into a comfortable rhythm, our past feelings replaced by a deep, platonic bond.

As for Nontombi and I, we were still figuring things out. But one thing was clear: we loved each other, and we were willing to fight for what we had. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful