And Now What?

In high school 12th grade I witnessed an assault and m****r of a girl in a parking lot. The perpetrator was never caught. It affected me more and more as time went by. I saw shadows, felt a man behind me, became more and more paranoid. Help didn't help. I left college worse than when I got there. I didn't go out at night, didn't go into parking garages, stairwells, strangers houses. I lived with my mother, I didn't go out.

I was helping my mother set up for the annual bake sale at church one Sunday. He was lost, looking for a room in the office building. I wiped my hands and led him to the room, alone. He was between me and the door. I went into an anxiety attack. He held me in his arms, I stopped trembling. He sat me down in a chair, and I answered his questions one by one. I told him about the night in the parking garage. I let him walk me back to my mother.

I became attached to him, so much so that I went to work for him. I was completely open with him, my feelings were safe, he listened to me. I knew I was in love, but never considered that he loved me. One day I asked him a question one day and he told me that you only teach the ones you love. As I left his office he touched my face, 'you know I love you, I love you very much'.

I felt I was too young, he was my mother's age. A day later I told him I loved him, very much, and ran away.