Original subtitles

I remember when I met you.

You were reading Plato's Symposium.

You read me the part where Aristophanes says that people are only half people,

torn in half by Zeus, and that we spend our lives longing and searching for our

other half.

We hadn't known each other long, but you said you thought I might be your other

half, that you felt whole around me.

It's easy to need you.

A strange country where we were so obviously different.

Always the subject of interest.

An oddity.

You were my secret and my privacy.

We were together from the moment we met.

Nobody knew about us except for Monica.

Before we met, I complained to her over and over about being alone.

That's why she introduced us, to get some peace.

She organised that trip to the country so we could get to know each other.

It was like there was no one else like us on earth.

I remember when we talked and argued about whether or not to tell people

us.

I thought we had a responsibility to be visible.

I remember when we told Monica's friend Han that we were together.

She just laughed and thought we were joking and thought it was not much good

because we would have no children.

She did tell me later that she had heard of this sort of thing before.

Apparently there was a man like us in Saigon.

I didn't tell her then that her best friend Monica was a dyke.

I'm not sure why we came back to Sydney.

I remember us talking about it and thinking it would be great.

We were going to get a house together, get jobs and be a couple.

No more secrecy.

We would be public.

But it was different.

Nobody noticed that it's true.

There were a lot of people like us and somehow we seemed...

Less special.

We got jobs and made friends and began to live separate lives.

I'm not sure when it happened, but eventually we drifted away from each

I didn't need you and you didn't need me.

There were always others interested in sex and our relationship seemed to be

stifling.

We were the parody of a hetero marriage.

Everything that we vowed we would never become.

about sex.

They were different.

We just stopped noticing each other.

We moved apart.

It was weird.

I would see you once a week, sometimes less.

Then we just stopped.

One missed a date and then too many days passed for a phone call.

It seemed like neither of us noticed.

The city carried me along.

Work, play, didn't really notice at all. Until I realised I was looking for

something without knowing it.

A connection or an inspiration.

A reminder of being alive to counter the monotony of work and the routine of the

city.

That's how I saw you in the street.

I know you didn't see me.

But suddenly it all seemed clear and I remembered.

My other half.

I remembered sitting on the roof drinking beer with you and Monica and

discussing the virtues of a communist state.

Han thought we were mad to romanticise the system she had grown up in. You were

passionate as always.

And eventually she agreed that capitalism sucked and was unsustainable.

I remembered loving you in that moment.

I tried to track you down but you seemed to be impossible to find.

We had drifted so far apart I didn't know where to begin to look.

I got this postcard from Monica.

She said that she had seen you and that you were there.

She didn't say much but she said you looked sad.

Like you had lost something.

I wonder if you feel it too.

And if you'll find it.