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summer sunset in melbourne. we dropped a quarter tab and took a walk along the river in the city. i was wearing my long green dress, you were in a linen shirt. we stopped on a bridge to take it all in. and in the breeze, i heard this song playing. we stood there together in silence, arms leaning side by side. then on our way back to the hotel along the riverbank, fireworks went off in the distance over the stadium.
brisbane, QLD – kyle (I found you)
I remember it vividly—stumbling through my YouTube algorithm, my affection for poetry, music, and art quietly conspiring to place Kyle “Guante” Tran Myhre’s "Love in the Time of Undeath" at the top of my suggestions. His voice, gravelly and alive, delivered each word with a ferocity that felt like it was aimed directly at me. I tripped over every syllable, carried by its potency. In that moment, as I sat in a relationship with a new partner that felt more hollow than whole, it was as if the algorithm was whispering something I wasn’t ready to hear.
Three years later, that same voice—raw and moody—resurfaced, this time underscoring a new dance track from a British laptop producer that slipped into my Spotify rotation like a ghost with a message. Three years on, and on the other side of that relationship, questioning the future. My lifelong obsession with curating music prickled with recognition. Before the song’s first chorus faded, I knew. I was among the first to hear it, to fall for it, to follow Fred again. And again. And again. And now, I have found you, and those words land more profoundly and more deeply now, each listen, knowing I have found my other half. Knowing how much more I wanted from love and from life, from Kyle's battle cry, his call to romantic arms.
Resonance isn’t just something we hear. It’s something we feel, as though the universe nudges us toward what we need before we even know we’re ready to listen.
– ted
one of those rare moments where everything is still. like the whole world takes a step back and it's just two individuals a fleeting moment, a sharing of a heartbeat
you don't get many of these in life and you almost never know it in the moment no rhyme or reason to it just two strangers, who finally feel like something to someone
the story will play out if the writers are any good but whether it's a short story, a series or a lifetime or all is lost in the weave of rivaling storylines
regardless of how script unravels, bitter or sweet this moment will linger.
– gauci