“How could you be so selfish?” he screamed. When I asked if he wanted to get something to eat, he flipped out. I kept reassuring myself: He would never hurt me.īack in our hotel room, he continued to rant. I finally left the room to get dinner on my own and calm down. He said that he liked to debate and I shouldn’t engage in political discourse with him if I couldn’t “handle it.” We went out for dinner, but I left in tears before the food was even served because he’d started arguing with me. He got a penthouse room and made dinner plans, but then we saw on the news that a tsunami had hit Pago Pago. I didn’t think about the gun during those early months-not until we went to Las Vegas for a tattoo convention slated to happen in early October. I told him that story, but he reassured me that he had been extensively trained, and that his gun was for our protection. ”This will keep us safer,” he promised. My uncle killed himself with a gun when I was 9, so I’ve always been scared of them. It was on that trip, barreling down the highway in his diesel pickup, when he told me he had a concealed carry license. We stayed in touch, and “officially” started dating in July when he invited me to Utah. He had worked in IT, but when we met, he was looking for new opportunities. He told me a bit about his life: half-Samoan, he was born in Pago Pago, the capital of American Samoa, but was raised a Mormon in California and Hawaii before going to Brigham Young University. He lived in Utah and was just visiting, so I spent the next few days taking him to a local oyster festival and my favorite beaches. I was also attracted to his intelligence-we talked in a deep, philosophical way that first night. A mutual friend introduced us, and Kenny told me that he loved my voice. I am a blues singer-he’d seen me at one of the many gigs I played that year in California, where I was living at the time.
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January 2023
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