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This journal is fiction. The voice you’re reading is a character, not the author. |
031526. This journal is fiction. The voice you’re reading is a character, not the author. Talk at Paul’s office. Sunday. Today was a long day. A surprising one. Paul picked me up at 10:30 this morning. We were supposed to meet his family for brunch at noon, so there was plenty of time before we needed to be at the restaurant. Instead of driving straight there, he turned toward his office and asked if I would like to see where he works. I said yes. His office was quiet since it was Sunday morning. He showed me around a little and explained some of the work he does. I listened, but after a few minutes I could tell there was something else on his mind. Eventually he asked me to sit down in the small sitting area he has in his office. That was when the conversation changed. Very calmly he told me that he wanted to be completely honest with me. He said that when I asked him to help with the legal matters involving my case, the district attorney had given him access to the trial records, the police reports, and the court documents. Everything he needed to understand the job I had asked him to do. In other words, he already knew. All of it. I felt my face grow hot almost instantly. Sitting there listening to him explain it, I realized there was nothing about that terrible time in my life that I could hide from him. The facts were already there in black and white. It left me feeling strangely exposed, even though he spoke about it with such care. When he finished, he said the reason he wanted to tell me was because he wanted me to know he understood what I had been through. And then he asked if I was still willing to see where things might go between us. He said he had not been joking the other night. He truly would like to date me and see where our friendship might lead. Hearing that eased something inside me. Part of me felt relief knowing I did not have to start from the beginning trying to explain the worst parts of my past. But another part of me still felt embarrassed and vulnerable knowing that he had read about it all. He made one thing very clear. He said he has never shared any of that information with anyone. Not even his family. He told me it was confidential, and that it would stay that way. Then he said something else that I needed to hear. None of it was my fault. He said nothing that happened in my past changed the way he saw me or how he felt about me. I was sitting on the couch across from him when I felt a tear slip down my cheek. He noticed immediately. He stood up, came over, and sat beside me. He took my hand. Looking directly into my eyes, he told me again that the past did not change what he saw when he looked at me. Then he began describing the things he noticed about me now. He said I was beautiful, intelligent, kind, and true. He said he admired my strength and the way I had fought my way forward after everything that had happened. He said many things. More than I can fully remember now. But I remember how sincere he sounded. Before I even realized what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. The moment I did it, I felt my face flush even more. Paul smiled and quietly thanked me. Not in a joking way. In a very serious, respectful way. He said thank you for trusting him. That was the moment I realized something important. I do trust him. We sat there for a little while after that, just quietly talking, his hand still holding mine. Eventually we left for brunch and met his family, but that part of the day almost feels secondary compared to the conversation we had before it. As I sit here writing, I realize how different this moment in my life feels compared to where I was not so long ago. Today I trusted someone. And it did not break me. Not even when he gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek to end our day together. I have a lot to talk about with Dr. Cole tomorrow. |
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