1,826 days

Tomorrow it will be five years since the night Sid turned up at my South Yarra apartment and a few hours later, drunkenly told me I was his girlfriend.

Melbourne, 2008… ish

I say “told me” because that’s precisely how it happened.

I agreed without hesitation, partly because I was stalkerishly in like with him via MySpace (RIP), partly because I was severely damaged and subservient (related: point 1), but mostly because in the months I’d known him, his very Sidness had been evident, and it’s this Sidness that makes people flock to him.

It’s not just his dashing good looks, which I once described as “a cross between Leonardo DiCaprio and Stephen Dorff”, a combination this hasn’t-left-the-nineties girl found irresistable, it’s in the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He does this to everyone, from strangers crossing the road to the people ringing up his groceries.

I don’t mention that I was at that time severely damaged and subservient because it sounds funny (it does), but because I really, actually was. I’d been hanging out in boozetown for years, and then coming home and wrecking the place with crazed, angry, horrible. I wasn’t in a good place, and I wasn’t safe from myself. Sid gave me a solid, secure and loving foundation on which to start healing myself.

It involved him telling me a lot of things he knew I wouldn’t like, and it takes a lot of courage to say that to someone who was quite likely to sever contact and run to a new place where there wasn’t a mess to clean up yet. He did it gently, but he never wavered. He also never judged, and every time I tried to run away, he made me realise that I wasn’t the horrible monster I’d believed myself to be, I was just a girl who got lost and needed a bit of help to find home.

That’s always how Sid has felt to me. He’s been my home, my sanctuary, my safe place from the world, and most importantly, from myself.

We’ve weathered violent alcohol blackout storms, insecurity/trust/jealousy squalls, tsunamis of unspoken rage that manifest in passive-aggressive behaviours and the whirlpool of Growing Up Without Growing Apart. We have plenty of fights, usually courtesy of the aforementioned passive-aggressiveness, but on the whole, he and I are both fully aware that we’re the centre of each other’s world, and right where we want to be.

I feel incredibly lucky to spend my days with this strange guy I friended on MySpace because of his music taste and my lack of friends who would lower themselves enough to attend DV8.  Thanks to Kittenbomb of Eat Your City who came with me on the night I met him, I not only found a music-partner but a couchfort-cat-adventure partner.

He makes my heart smile and tells the best old man jokes and he’s given me two beautiful cats; children who basically take care of themselves?

This man knows me.

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