"You've only told one person? Mary?" I nodded. "Your parents don't know?" I shook my head no. "Are you going to tell them?"
I picked up a small rock off of the pavement and studied it's texture and shape. "No."
"Why not?"
"For the same reason you didn't want to and the same reasons you wished you hadn't. I don't think I could handle the way it would change their lives forever."
"Nickie, you should tell them."
"Of all people you should understand why I don't. Please don't try to convince me that I should do that."
"It's not that I want to convince you to do something you don't want to do. Are you prepared to keep this a secret from your parents forever? Do you think you can do that and not let it come between you?"
"I have so far."
"You don't think this has come between you?" The small rock wasn't big enough to hid much mystery. I felt it's sharp edge as I pushed it into the tip of my finger.
"Maybe, but I would rather it come between us like this than risk my father feeling the way your's does. I don't want to see this eat at them and change who they are. It would effect them too much. It's like you said. I can deal with what happened to me a lot better than what it would do to them."
"Nickie, that's talk. I meant it but I also know that I had to tell them." I didn't respond. I didn't want to go through this with him. He knew that. "Okay...anyway... besides that. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
"That's a pretty non descript description." He bent his head close to look at me. I was done with the tears. What a weak moment and I hate being weak. I hate being needy.
"Tim I don't know how to describe how I am. A lot of the things you said tonight was like you were taking the words right from my own thoughts. I understood what you meant. But I never thought or believed anyone else ever had those thoughts."
"More than you know. I use to think that there was no way in hell anyone could understand how I felt. But there are people who do."
"Honestly Tim I still feel that way. You said a lot of the things that I've felt for years. But I still don't think or believe there is anyone who could possibly have a clue to who I am and what I feel or think. I am NOT like anyone else. This doesn't make me common to anyone. I don't want to belong to a group where this is what we share and what keeps us together. It is NOT who I am. It happened to me. And that's where I want it to end." There was an anger starting to rock inside of me. Not at Tim but at the idea that this made me like others that I didn't want to be associated with. People who's commonality is what was done to them, not by choices they made.
"All right. I'm not going to argue with you Nicky. You don't think anyone can understand you. I respect that. I also repsect that you don't want this to be the guiding force in your life. But I am glad that you told me and I want you to know that you are the same person to me that you were before you told me. I won't think of you as 'Nicky the girl who was molested'. I'll think of you as 'Nicky the girl I got to know my senior year through a girl I dated and we became friends and the girl I dated broke up with me and we stayed friends'." He smiled, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Good, because that's who I feel like. And I'm pretty content with that." I stood up in the street. "Let's head back to the house." We walked across the street and quietly made our way to his car parked in front of our house. He opened his car door and slid behind the wheel. I closed the door for him and he smiled. There didn't seem to be much more to say tonight. We said good night and he left.
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