We stood in that store while he was working on a computer project for his class,
he was my boyfriend of three months and I was the naive girl looking desperately for that connection, for love. It was long before the days of home printers, and he was getting that last minute homework ready for his college class before we went to hang out for the evening. I remember the moment well. The computer wasn't cooperating in the way he expected, data was lost as quickly as his temper.
He slammed his fist down on the table in anger and said with gritted teeth, "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Then, as I cowered slightly, cringing in anticipation of anger misdirected at me, he looked at me, heaved a heavy sigh, breathing out his apparent frustration, and said so calmly, "Well, do you want to go rent a movie?"
And with that, I was in love. This person was so in control of their anger, I didn't feel in danger at all, and that safety - that is key, right? That's what makes a relationship, my then-19 year old self thought. I fell in love with him in that moment, but it would be weeks still before I said those words to him. He was my first love, and he was safety like I had never felt before.
We were together for over 15 years.
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