Friday night, exactly one year ago today, I went out for dinner and happy hour with Kyle. We ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir at a German restaurant near work. We finished dinner and the bottle of wine but stayed out talking and laughing as the server cleared our plates.
Equal parts buzzed and tired and happy, I took the train home saying goodbye to Kyle in North Sydney. At Town Hall, I switched trains like I do 5 days of the week, to hop on the Eastern Suburbs line that finishes at Bondi Junction.
It’s only a 10 minute ride from Town Hall to Bondi Junction but I think I fell asleep for part of it. I awoke as the train slowed and the doors opened. It was late, midnight or just past. As I exited the carriage, I saw an old lady in the carriage next to mine with nearly a dozen pieces of luggage. I started shuttling the bags out of the train and onto the platform. There was another girl helping, too. The three of us silently shifted all the baggage from here to there until the last piece was set down.
“Let us help you bring these up the escalator,” said the other girl or me. “It’s late and we can help,” we offered.
The old lady declined, and when we insisted she resisted to the point of putting her hands over her ears and humming. At this stage, we both looked at each other and backed away. The station was nearly empty as the girl and I took the escalator. Both of us a bit weirded out from the old lady’s reaction, and we said how we hoped someone was meeting her.
Halfway up, and I had my first real look at her. I was standing on the step above facing her; she had her blond hair pulled up in a bun, lovely long lashes and the most perfect lips you’d ever see. A total and complete knockout.
“You’re really pretty,” I told her with the brazen confidence of having nothing to lose.
She batted her eyelashes and may or may not have pursed her lips, “Thank you,” she said.
I asked her if she lived in Bondi, too. And she picked up on my accent, “Are you American?” she asked.
We shared our ‘moving to Sydney’ stories as we walked toward the exit of the station. She said arrived here about two years ago, too.
There was something about her in those five or ten minutes where I felt like we’d see each other again. Not just because she suggested we exchange numbers and hang out sometime, because she did. Just a feeling I guess. I assumed she was straight and she assumed I was, too. I asked her if she was single for the hell of it. And she was. Before we parted ways she said, I feel like we should hug. I couldn’t help but smile and agree.
In the past year she’s become my best friend, my girlfriend, and my absolute favorite thing I’ve found in Sydney…in anywhere. We love each other in a way that is as passionate as it is absolute. Certain and encompassing. My whole heart.