The moment I knew: I heard her sing for the first time and awe ran through me

The Guardian

10-05-2025

In 2023 I made my regular queer pilgrimage from Melbourne to Sydney to strut the streets at Mardi Gras in flared pink pants. With my best friend in tow we moved through the masses of glittered faces.
We stumbled on a house party – the balcony overflowing with people dancing. Partygoers littered the street below, praising the DJ as they hung from trees and danced on car roofs, waving their rainbow fans in sync with the music.
My attention turned from the sea of LED-lit cowboy hats to a girl standing a few metres away. She was wearing a fluffy pink bikini but one of the first things I noticed were her beautiful brown eyes. My best friend urged me to approach her. I tapped her on the shoulder and blurted out: 'I'm sorry if you're straight but I think you're really pretty.'
She said she wasn't straight and she thought I was pretty too. She told me her name was Elissa. Not only did we share almost the same name, we were just three weeks apart in age. I was captivated by her vibrant energy and beaming smile. Despite the swarm of people around us, I felt almost as though I was alone with her.
We planned to get dinner and drinks the next night. I spent the day at Bronte beach recounting the previous night's antics to friends, joking that Elissa could end up being the love of my life.
As I headed back to the hotel to get ready for our dinner, Elissa messaged me to say she was too busy with university work to meet up. She told me that if I were ever back in Sydney she would love to see me again. The hopeless romantic in me, who was already speculating where this might go, was gutted.
The next day I headed home to Melbourne. I was convinced that nothing would happen between us, especially since she'd flaked on our date. To my surprise, she messaged me a few days later. I didn't want to pursue anything because we lived in different cities but soon we couldn't stop messaging each other and calling late at night.
A month after we met I impulsively booked a flight back to Sydney.
We spent a night in a trance, taking each other in. I felt magnetically drawn to her. And yet her presence didn't set off nerves – I felt calm.
I extended my trip. We spent the next week sharing secrets and watching the waves at Bondi beach. We sketched in my journal in Hyde Park, perched on a park bench by a busking saxophonist. We discovered our shared love of music.
One evening we were sitting in Elissa's lounge room overlooking Bondi's dramatic cliff faces. Noticing the piano in the corner, I asked her if she could play for me. I was excited – we had spoken so much about music, and she once sent me a snippet of herself playing, but this was the first time I would see her perform in person.
She started playing complex compositions with such grace and ease. I was already impressed but I knew she could sing too. After toying with the idea for a while, she finally started singing Adele's One and Only.
Her voice was angelic, her piano playing magical. I was in awe of this phenomenal human being. I felt grateful to just be in her presence. When she finished the song I realised I was screwed. My feelings were profound and there was no turning back.
After that trip we were desperate to see more of each other. Keeping things casual wasn't an option. This marked the beginning of 18 months of escapades through both our cities. We rarely went two weeks without seeing each other. I remember longing for her to touch down in Melbourne – my adrenaline increasing as I drove to the airport. I'd detour at a drive-through to surprise her with her favourite: a McFlurry with extra M&Ms.
I would count down the hours until my plane would take off, and hope for a window seat so I could marvel at the Opera House.
We cracked crosswords together and snuggled up by the fireplace at my family's beach house on the Mornington Peninsula. As we explored each other's states and minds, I knew we had found something lasting.
We spent three months travelling through Europe together and realised we couldn't return to the cycle of bidding each other goodbye at airports.
Now we live together in Melbourne. Two and a half years in, we play music together and continue to explore each other's minds.
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