it’s a love story | tamara & leon
Updated: Feb 2
prologue: *I first published this in 2010 on my old blog, and thought it too beautiful a story to lay waste in the pages of interwebs past. minor changes have been made to the words below from their original 2010 content*
Tamara is my best friend. we first met, a little shy girl courageously welcoming the new girl to school in year 3 in 1987. we’ve had some serious hang out time over the past 33 years; we watched Pulp Fiction 53 times one high school holidays, lived in an attic for a weeks watching movies, sleeping, talking and laughing without thought to the outside world. we created funny & imaginative stories about our fictional parallel lives as superheroes, refer to each other as our superhero nicknames, we do our nails and read fashion magazines on the grass, we cook, we talk about books and films and music, drone with our husbands, drink wine and chat, but often its the things that Tam doesn’t say that I pick up on the most. as an adult she's much better at discussing her feelings, but I am still one of the only people that has seen her cry. I know about her complex relationship, frustrations & hurt with her family (both true and biological) and she knows mine, she can be a little reserved but has a beautiful tender & nurturing soul, a wickedly black sense of humour and the most incredible intellect. she is an amazing mother who takes the time to explain things and nurture her children’s individuality. she doesn’t mind that I'm overly affectionate with her and her kids, or that I'm sometimes too rough with her small delicate Korean feet! we have a friendship that understands and accepts our past experiences and differences. she has a beautiful heart and a creative spirit. that’s my Tamara. and this is her love story in her own words.
it's a love story
“Why was your wife so special?” “How long is your program? It was a million little things. When you added them up, it meant we were meant for each other.” (Sleepless in Seattle)
I have been asked, often by nosey students in Korea, to tell the love story of how I met my husband. They wanted to know, because they thought that Leon got little love hearts in his eyes when he spoke of me. I’m often stumped at this question and I’m likely to come up with a different version each time. There was no lightning bolt moment, no remarkable tale of coincidence and no grand romantic gestures in front of bemused bystanders. And thank goodness, because it is possible that I may one day die of embarrassment because of a public display of affection. Fans of The X Files may remember how the tension between Mulder and Scully was built up for seasons, only to be resolved OFF SCREEN. The audience may have felt cheated but it was quite true to the understated nature of the characters. An outpouring of emotion would have been weird. So too, goes the relationship between his Mulder to my Scully. You will have to infer what we are feeling, rather than listen to a flowery description of what we mean to each other. So The Story has four parts. Part 1: Mel points out some guy that she thinks is hot at Tuggerah. I paid little attention. Mel was always pointing out some guy that she thought was hot. Part 2: I accompanied Grace to a pre-party gathering at Geoff Crews’ flat. He lived with Jared; they were friends with Leon Dawes. We spoke a little but he didn’t speak to me the next time we crossed paths at the coffee shop. I thought it was a bit rude. He was just a bit shy. Part 3: Lindy had a party at her house and we spoke a little bit more. We agreed to meet at the coffee shop. The next time we crossed paths, he actually sat down at the same table with me for a coffee. Part 4: The Whitlams played at uni. He nearly didn’t go, but Lindy talked him into it. I didn’t want to go either, but Lindy made me because I was staying at her house that night. So it was meant to be… FF twenty four years later. We’ve travelled together, worked together, had a family together, been through it all together. I hate questions like, “Why did you fall in love with your husband?” I honestly don’t know the answer. I feel like an idiot trying to quantify either of us. We work with what we’ve got and try to learn something along the way. There’s more to learn; much, much more. I don’t set too many goals for the future, other than nurturing a proper relationship with my husband and children, and make some warm memories so that I’m not cold in winter. In the end, relationships and memories are the only things that count.