Rick was one quarter (the boyfriend – now husband – of Kim) of the forced-couple-socialising by my ex-husband. As way of introduction, I was told Rick was a DJ, funny and a nice guy.
Rick and I share an appreciation of beer and late night deep chat. One Saturday night in September 2008 we’d all had a few drinks and it was probably getting on for midnight. I have a habit of falling asleep after a few bevvies, then waking up and getting a second wind and this particular night I remember having a little lay down on Rick and Kim’s living room floor, while Rick chatted to me, asking “who really IS Tara?”. A short nap later, and I was ready to answer the question.
We were still outside at 4am drinking Kronenberg, figuring out the meaning of life and sharing life tales. Ironically back then, I don’t think I actually shared any real, personal stuff; I didn’t actually really know myself that well.
Rick and I share a friendship that gives me the warm fuzzies and big giant hugs. He’s protective; I know he has my back. I know he cares that I’m doing OK and I feel like he’s proud if I do well at something. He hates the fact I have brown sauce with chicken fried rice though, which I don’t think is warranted.
He’s funny, patient and kind. He keeps a small circle, and his family is the most important thing to him, and they all love him just as much he them. He’s honest in that he’s genuine, and doesn’t suffer fools, which I admire.
This guy’s got principles and knows what he likes. He doesn’t really give a shit what other people are up to, unless it affects him or the people he loves, he just wants to get on with his life.
One of those ‘quiet achievers’, he doesn’t need to make a song and dance, isn’t in your face but instead just cracks on. Discerningly ambitious, he works hard and I’d say he’s liked by all that meet him (unless someone really took offence to his quite flagrant dislike of brown sauce with rice).
So it turns out there was something my ex-husband was right about.
The Paps Life 