05/08/2025
*The Love That Never Left*
*SHORT STORY BY*
*ELWIN MUNATSIRE*
I was just a boy in Grade 6 when I first saw her.
She was everything beauty could be at that age —
soft eyes, a gentle smile, and the kind of presence that makes a heart skip even when you don’t know why.
She was introduced to our class as a new student.
A newcomer, they said.
But to me… she was more than that.
She was my friend’s mainini,and I knew immediately that if I ever dared tell her how I felt, I’d risk losing that friendship.
So I did what scared boys do —
I kept quiet.
I sat in the same classroom with her every day, stealing glances, feeling things I didn’t understand.
Love, maybe.
At our age, proposing at school was unheard of
but that didn’t stop the feelings.
Time passed. We finished Grade 7.
High school awaited.
She returned to her home in Chipinge, and I went my own way.
Just like that… she was gone.
But not from my heart.
Years rolled by.
I never stopped wondering where she was,
what became of her,
if she remembered the shy boy who couldn’t speak his truth.
One day, by pure luck or fate,
I met one of her relatives.
I asked for her number — and got it.
My heart raced the moment I dialed.
Would she remember me?
Would she even care?
But when she answered…
her voice lit up with joy.
Yes, she remembered.
Yes, she was happy to talk to me.
And then… the truth spilled out.
I told her about the crush I had in Grade 6,
how she made me feel back then — and still did.
And guess what?
She felt the same.
We started dating.
No kisses, no holding hands.
Just late-night calls,
messages,
selfies shared between Norton and Chipinge.
It felt like we were close, even if we weren’t.
Love doesn’t always need distance to vanish —
but in our case, it was silence that ended it.
We lost contact.
Again.
Years passed.
Then one day — her name appeared in my mind again.
And by some miracle, I got her number.
But things were different now.
She was in South Africa.
Married with Two kids.
My heart sank.
She told me it wasn’t love —
she had been forced to marry the man she was living with.
I was shattered.
But love, real love… doesn’t die easily.
We talked again.
Secretly.
Our old habits returned —
texting every day,
sending pictures,
laughing like nothing had changed.
It was dangerous.
It was wrong.
But it felt right.
And then… she came back to Zimbabwe.
She had left the man.
She was free.
I was over the moon —
ready to take her in,
ready to make her mine forever.
In my mind, this was our second chance.
No more distance.
No more secrets.
She got a job in Harare — near me.
But something changed.
She stopped calling.
The messages slowed.
I tried to keep the fire burning,
but she was pulling away.
Maybe the timing was wrong.
Maybe I was too late.
Maybe… it was my own fault —
because yes, by then, I was married too.
But marriage doesn’t erase emotion.
It doesn’t delete memories.
I still love her.
Even though she avoids me.
Even though she doesn’t respond like she used to.
Even though she’s single now…
and I’m not.
I loved her in Grade 6.
I loved her through the phone.
I loved her when she was married.
I loved her when she came back.
And I still love her now —
like I never stopped.
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*The End*
