In 2016 a breakup sent me spiralling into a period of deep introspection. I was 25 years old and knew it was time to “do the work”, as they say. I knuckled down and spent a long, lonely winter sorting myself out as best I could. By the spring my mood was thawing, and on the dancefloor at a Chicago house night at Melbourne Town Hall I clocked Olwen for the first time.
When we ran into each other and introduced ourselves at an after party, a frisson ran through me. That brief interaction with her left me so discombobulated I had to leave the party early. I was on the mend, but I definitely wasn’t ready for whateverthatwas.
Months went by and one weekend I found myself at a big, trashy party in the city. I was saying hello to a friend when I realised Olwen was standing with her. She recognised me from our electric and slightly odd encounter and we locked on to each other for the rest of the night. From then on we were inseparable.
As we got to know each other over the next few weeks, I found myself saying all sorts of out-of-character things. About how I felt this intense familiarity with her and thought perhaps we were somehow fated. These were not concepts I would have believed in, let alone openly discussed, before I met her. But there was something so safe and magical about Olwen; it seemed to bring this cosmic side out in me.
I was obviously feeling some monumental feelings, but my logical brain kept fighting them. Olwen told me she loved me about a week into our romance, but I held back.
Then one summer’s day we were in a park with a group of friends and decided to go for pizza. On the walk, Olwen got a severe migraine that affected her vision and mobility. I wouldn’t call myself a natural nurturer, at least at that time in my life, but in that instant my sole priority became getting her to my house nearby, where she could rest and I could look after her. I was really, really freaking out – I had never been around somebody who had a migraine – and didn’t know what to do at first. I nearly called an ambulance. Through some gentle yet intense communication I was able to understand what she needed from me. Passersby looked concerned as we stood on some random footpath in Fitzroy, me gently rubbing her temples; but everything was becoming clear to me.
Once I finally got her home and she was safe, asleep in my bed, with the lights off and curtains drawn, I knew I had fallen in love with her.
At that moment I realised how foolish it was to deny my feelings. I knew that whatever happened this relationship was going to be a positive and hugely impactful journey. Once the migraine had subsided, I told her so.
Before I connected with Olwen I’d held a very intellectual view of relationships. I looked at the world through a logical lens. But being with her felt so safe that I was able to tap right back into the much more expansive perspective I had as a kid. Not in a silly way, but in this open-hearted, open-minded way that allowed me to really see and feel the beauty in the everyday. Magic comes from connections we make with others – even if we don’t know at the time.
Not too long after the migraine incident, I saw a pair of overalls in her wardrobe. They reminded me of a time, a couple of years earlier, when I’d seen a person at a gig who had the most magnetic energy. When I asked Olwen if it was her, she couldn’t remember. When I described the Converse chucks she was wearing and the long dark hair and sharp bangs she no longer had, it became clear our lives had been orbiting for longer than we’d realised.
I had fallen in love with Olwen three times, it just took the third for me to realise. Nine years later we are still finding new ways to connect. In 2021 we moved from Melbourne to Sydney. We’ve travelled extensively and road tripped the east coast at least half a dozen times. Our journey together is a constant evolution and I know our biggest adventures are yet to come.
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