It was a punk rock gig in Wellington when I first laid eyes on Tom. In a crowd of black-clad music fans, he stood out - wearing what looked like his pyjamas, in the form of a pale blue Star Trek uniform. To me, at the time, it seemed surreal and ridiculous. But little did I know then that this moment would mark the beginning of an extraordinary friendship.
We didn't speak that night, but fate had other plans. Weeks later, while hanging out in a squat and working as a theatre set designer, Tom's name came up again - this time in connection to his love for Doctor Who and a peculiar costume he'd spotted on my own designs. In the midst of our quirky conversation about Daleks and sci-fi, I discovered that we shared more than just a sense of humour.
Our first meeting turned into an invitation to hang out more, culminating in us moving in together when Tom got a spare room in his flat. The moment I knew was almost as surreal as his Star Trek uniform that night at the punk gig - it felt like our lives had been on a collision course for years, and finally converging.
But there was a pang of fear attached to this revelation. I'd recently ended a relationship with a woman and felt like my life would never be the same again. It wasn't a bleak outlook but more of a sense of liberation - as if I was leaving behind a part of myself that no longer served me. The moment when I knew Tom was both exhilarating and scary, because it marked the end of a carefree chapter in my life.
We've been together for 18 years now, and our lives have taken on an entirely new rhythm. We love to dress up as masked characters, go on road trips, and explore nature - with Tom's passion for gardening and activism being a constant source of inspiration to me. Our bond is strong and has brought out the best in both of us.
I often find myself thinking back to that moment when I first met Tom, wondering if our lives had indeed been on a collision course all along. In many ways, it feels like we were meant to be together - two souls bound by an inexplicable connection, forged from a shared sense of curiosity and playfulness. And as for that Star Trek uniform? Well, let's just say it was the beginning of something truly remarkable.
We didn't speak that night, but fate had other plans. Weeks later, while hanging out in a squat and working as a theatre set designer, Tom's name came up again - this time in connection to his love for Doctor Who and a peculiar costume he'd spotted on my own designs. In the midst of our quirky conversation about Daleks and sci-fi, I discovered that we shared more than just a sense of humour.
Our first meeting turned into an invitation to hang out more, culminating in us moving in together when Tom got a spare room in his flat. The moment I knew was almost as surreal as his Star Trek uniform that night at the punk gig - it felt like our lives had been on a collision course for years, and finally converging.
But there was a pang of fear attached to this revelation. I'd recently ended a relationship with a woman and felt like my life would never be the same again. It wasn't a bleak outlook but more of a sense of liberation - as if I was leaving behind a part of myself that no longer served me. The moment when I knew Tom was both exhilarating and scary, because it marked the end of a carefree chapter in my life.
We've been together for 18 years now, and our lives have taken on an entirely new rhythm. We love to dress up as masked characters, go on road trips, and explore nature - with Tom's passion for gardening and activism being a constant source of inspiration to me. Our bond is strong and has brought out the best in both of us.
I often find myself thinking back to that moment when I first met Tom, wondering if our lives had indeed been on a collision course all along. In many ways, it feels like we were meant to be together - two souls bound by an inexplicable connection, forged from a shared sense of curiosity and playfulness. And as for that Star Trek uniform? Well, let's just say it was the beginning of something truly remarkable.