Ozon?u Chronicles Part 2: Why we shouldn’t cry over situationships

I waited with bated breath. WhatsApp kept showing the dots... but no message ever came. I kept refreshing my phone. Every blink of those dots made my chest tighten. This hurt... worse than anything I’d felt before. Finally, I gave up. I drank some more, cried myself to bed, even tempted to text my manager asking if I could get Monday off.

By the time Monday rolled around, I had done the “you are the CEO of your life” speech in the mirror a hundred times. I was ready. Ready to not let a guy mess me around ever again.

Work felt like a drag. I kept checking his WhatsApp, but still no message. My colleague noticed.

“Jy was gelos of wat?” Jonas, the ama2000 intern, asked. I brushed him off, but later, in the bathroom, I wiped a tear away. During lunch, while trying to distract myself with mindless scrolling on social media, Nani called.

“Sorry it didn’t go as planned with Prince Charming,” he joked. I tried to feign a laugh – and that’s when I saw my phone ringing. Shanika’s name flashed on the screen. I nearly dropped it.

“Uhhh... he is calling, Nani,” I muttered.

Nani, on the other end, sounded annoyed. “Don’t answer, jy sal dom lyk.”

I hung up on Nani and answered after four rings, trying not to sound desperate.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Something in his voice wasn’t his usual self, but at least he was calling.

“I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he said.

A tear rolled down my cheek. How could a single sentence move me this much?

“I’ve been in therapy,” he continued. “I have a fear of commitment... and you scare me, because I really want you. Only you. My therapist said I need to be open and give myself the chance to be happy.”

He admitted the Nani incident had thrown him off balance.

I wanted to jump into his arms right then.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said softly.

He suggested we not label things, just see where it goes.

“Yes!” I almost screamed.

Then he asked what I was doing. I told him I was at work. He asked if I’d eaten. I hadn’t.

“I’m outside. I bought you lunch... just in case this call went as expected,” he said.

In seconds, I was in the parking lot, hugging him like a drug addict finally getting a hit. He told me he missed me. I told him I missed him too.

I was so happy. My colleagues immediately noticed my mood had changed, poking fun at me.

“What was in the parking lot, etoo?”

I ignored him and called Nani back, explaining we were back together.

“Unless he asks you to be his girl, keep your options open,” Nani warned.

“But this is special,” I said, and I could almost feel Nani’s eyes roll.

Later, at the gym, I sent Shanika a pic of my gym fit. We were back to business as usual, and to be honest, it felt like hell not being able to check in with him. I busied myself texting him my workout plan when I nearly bumped into a girl.

I looked up; it was Kerri. We had worked together at my previous company. She’s one of those colleagues who helped me survive a toxic workplace, even with the worst managers imaginable.

She seemed a bit down. We decided to grab a shake.

She told me her boyfriend of four years had broken up with her three weeks ago, then came back. She took him back... only to realise he might be seeing someone else.

I was appalled. “Men are trash,” I said. Obviously, this doesn’t apply to Shanika. He’s sweet, gentle... he’s different, I think to myself.

I reminded her she’s gorgeous and that no man should ever put her down. You can’t be crying over a guy who probably looks like he sneaked into Earth.

Half-joking, I asked to see what her boyfriend looked like.

And tell me why I ended up staring at a picture of my Shanika...

*Ozon?u Chronicles is based on real experiences told through reflective storytelling. Names and identifying details have been changed. Each story explores the raw edges of love, identity, and the messy middle where growth often hides.