Right Love Feels Like Pure Peace I Have Ever Known — Flea Market Nintendo 64 Controller

The First Date

On my first date with my boyfriend, I reluctantly asked him to pull his car over because I felt like I had to throw up. He immediately slowed the car to a stop, and I was already unbuckling my seatbelt. Throwing the door open, I ran to kneel in the grass. Throughout this twenty second sequence, I had already processed and accepted that I would never see him again. What guy –in their right mind– would go on a second date with a girl who had nearly vomited in his car on the first?

A Moment of Unexpected Care

While the grass stained the knees of my jeans, I saw my dinner for the second time that night. I scrambled to sweep my long hair behind my shoulders and gather it all into one hand, but suddenly there was someone behind me gathering my hair into his.

“Let me,” he said, as he rubbed circles into my back with his palm.

Finding Safety in Love

Six months later, he continues to surprise me every day. He is attuned to me in a way I have never experienced, bringing out a sense of safety so overwhelming I initially nearly collapsed underneath. Sometimes when he holds me in his arms, I feel the impulse to sob, similar to the feeling of walking through my front door after a long, emotionally heavy day.

Rediscovering Childhood Joy

On one of our earlier dates, he took me to a flea market he often visits. I hadn’t gone to a flea market since I was a child, an outing I forgot existed as an option. It was more or less the way I had remembered it, though it wasn’t the same flea market I used to go with my parents. The space was filled with vendors selling various repetitive items: one vendor selling only lamps, another with stuffed animals, others with books, baseball cards, and antique furniture. As we were about to leave, we noticed a vendor in the corner that seemed to have the biggest space. Walking through a small archway and into a larger room, each wall was filled with video games, consoles, and controllers, and we had no idea where to look. While my date took a peak at the Xbox 360 games, my attention was caught by a rack of Nintendo 64 controllers.

A Piece of My Childhood

Growing up and to this day, the Nintendo 64 has always been my family's go-to console. My cousins gave us their old one years ago, along with all of their games and controllers. One of those controllers, my favourite one, was purple and transparent. This was the controller I always called dibs on, and the controller we all got to use for the shortest amount of time, as it quickly broke from frequent wear.

Sifting through the controllers on the rack, I noticed one hanging at the back on the lowest peg; one I could’ve sworn looked purple. Quickly removing the controllers hanging in front, I was met with a fossil from my childhood, an artifact seemingly frozen in time. With the controller in my hand, warm memories came tumbling forward, and I shot up from my hunched squat to show my date what I had found.

Embracing the Things I Love

Since meeting my boyfriend, my room has slowly been filled by the items I used to keep stuffed at the back of my closet. My Supernatural DVD’s and every one of my Sims 3 expansion packs, my Star Wars comics and my collections of fantasy book series. The things I had always felt mistakenly ashamed of, he makes me excited to share, proud to own.

The Peace of Being Yourself

The peace that he encourages, and the safety he promises and delivers, allows me to grow into the woman I am while grounding me with the girl I have always been. It is a peace that allows me to confidently dive into all the things that have always brought me joy, without the fear that he would respond with anything but support; without fearing the possibility he could taint them.

A Familiar Kind of Peace

When he rubbed my back for the first time instead of disappearing like I expected, it reminded me that my father used to do the same when I approached him with a tummy ache. It struck me all at once that the peace he provides me feels so different, so new, because it truly does not feel new at all; it is cut from the same cloth as the most pure peace I have ever known. A peace that I forgot was possible, tucked at the back of my mind in a locked drawer labeled unconditional.