The Sixth Night

Nick arrived for our weekly meeting with no intention of taking me anywhere.

“You know,” he said, “I confess that during the week I thought about spending the night in one or two very nice places I know, and then, knowing you wouldn’t want to go, I realized that, on my own, it wouldn't be good. I realized that being with you was much more pleasant to me.”

“I didn’t know you were a masochist,” I said jokingly, to shift the conversation’s focus away from me.

“And I’m not,” he replied. “You know, you work so hard to maintain your solitude, and I think I do the same. If I had gone, I wouldn’t be here, of course, and there, I’d also be alone. Those who frequent the night are always seeking solitude, even when they say otherwise.”

“I had a similar impression, back in those distant years, when I used to go out at night.”

“Isn’t it curious? We search for the same thing but by different means?”

“I know my reasons for that, and I believe you have your own good reasons too.”

“Since I was very, very little, I was abused by an adult who was very, very close to me.”

“Wow! I’m so sorry!”

“I really can’t trust anyone, you know? It seems to me that if you trust, people will stab you in the back when you least expect it. He did whatever he wanted with me for many years, until he died, when I was fifteen. A few years before that, though, I discovered I loved him. I understood that the abuse was his way of showing his love for me. When he died, I lost my ground and ran away from home, continuing to look for men who would abuse me out of love. Ridiculous, right?”

“I’m so sorry your path has been so difficult.”

He wiped a tear with his right hand and continued: “My psychologist suggested I open up to you. Honestly, I feel like I’m tearing myself open in front of you!”

We paused for a moment, and he spoke again: “When I was 25, I survived an overdose. Since I was 16, 17, I had been using drugs, and it took years, but eventually I found a guy who didn’t mind killing as long as he could make money off it. The more he offered, the more I bought, and I ended up in such a state that he decided to run away. I followed him, ending up collapsed and vomiting in the hallway of the building. Someone saw me and called the police.”

' The doctors said it was a miracle I recovered. I did recover, but I thought those were many years of painfull, long death. I didn’t want to die again!”

He sought shelter in my chest, and I gave it to him. He cried, and I embraced him.

“Sorry for ruining your night,” he said.

“You haven’t ruined anything. I just hope to be worthy of your trust. How do you feel?”

He sighed deeply before saying: “Relieved, although afraid of your dagger.”

“I’m also afraid of yours.”

“Your dinner is getting cold.”

“We can reheat it later. Right now, you are the most important. My story isn’t as dramatic, but I also felt betrayed by those who were supposed to care for me. But that goes back even before I was born.”

“Really?”

“Really. I only found out the facts through a hypnotic regression! I also had two people trying to sexually abuse me, but I ran away before the abuse happened. But let’s leave that conversation for later. Right now, you are the most important!”

...and I hugged him tightly.