A quiet space for the loudest feeling I’ve ever known.


Wrote you a letter… or two

I See You

Dear Nompumelelo,

There’s something extraordinary about the way you exist in this world. You don’t force light — you are light. You don’t try to be kind — kindness flows from you effortlessly. I don’t think you fully realize how you make people feel safer, softer, more grounded… just by being.

I remember watching you from a distance all those years ago. I didn’t know what to say then — maybe I still don’t. But what I do know is that even when we weren’t speaking, you were already shaping a part of my heart.

Now that I know you — MaShenge — truly know you, your voice, your quirks, the way your eyes soften when you talk about the things you love… I carry a peace I’ve never known before. It’s like I’ve finally found what I was unknowingly searching for.

You are a soft miracle in this loud world. And I’m so grateful I get to witness you up close.

Always,
Lwandile

Always

Dear Nompumelelo,

There’s a certain kind of forever I never believed in — until you.

Before I texted you in December, I had rehearsed a thousand versions of how things might go. I expected uncertainty. I expected silence. But I didn’t expect your warmth. I didn’t expect to be welcomed with such grace.
From that moment, MaShenge, everything changed.

It’s not just about the big feelings. It’s the little ones — the calm I feel when you speak, the smile that rises in me when I hear your name, the way the day feels lighter when I know you’re near. I love you quietly, patiently, and endlessly.

You are the peace I never knew I needed. You are the home I never thought I’d find. And I will keep choosing you in a hundred lifetimes, in every version of me.

I want this space — this letter, this site, this memory — to remind you: you are deeply loved. Not for what you do, but for who you are.
A rare soul. A true heart. MaShenge.

Forever yours,
Lwandile