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That day the day she told me, I went into her room and sat on her bed. I immediately knew that there was something wrong. That she was going to go ahead and tell me. I guess I should have remembered her telling me about Dulce, and asking me to hug her when I saw her. I just didn’t make the connection. It keeps going through my head trying to make connections and wondering how I could have missed it all. I guess everyone has secrets, though.

Her secret. She was sitting on the chair right across from me. And Dulce was sitting on the bed between her and me as if to mediate a response. She looked at me and her eyes where shining. I knew she was going to cry; I knew I was going to cry, but I had to hold back my tears. This was my time to be silent and just listen. And listen I did. First, to the silence that filled the room. I was too scared to look at her. I thought she might cry, and if she cried I would definitely cry. But then she started to get her breath.
“The other night I went to this talk. Dulce gave it.” Then there was a pause that seemed to last forever. “She was talking about her childhood and the fact that she had been molested. And I started to cry.” At that moment, I took a deep breath. I think I understood, but at that point I just needed to let her voice come out. She took her time telling the story. Telling me about her childhood. Saying that at one point in her life she had been molested, and telling me that her mom walked in on the person doing it so it had stopped.
This overwhelming sensation of disgust filled me. Disgust towards a society that would let that happen. Disgust toward the person that did this. I guess I finally understood the sadness in her eyes. I am glad that she started to open up to me, and I am glad that she had found Dulce. Dulce was an amazing girl. She had also been sexually molested, but her belief in God helped her get through it and change it. Her story would not end though.
At that time I did not know what to say. I guess you never really know what to say to something like this, but I let her know that I would always be there to listen, but I would never make her talk about it if she felt uncomfortable. Maybe I should have made her talk.
That summer, she found a boyfriend. Her first love. He was my friend’s cousin who had just got to the United States from Mexico. I used to make fun of her because one time we were watching this video with my friend and this drunk guy comes up on the screen, and she says, “Oye, Quien es presentamelo no?” Of course, at that time she was just joking she didn’t actually think that she would meet this guy on TV nevertheless fall in love with him.
But she did. From the first day they met they were together as a couple. He was very loving towards her, and they looked cute together. The only problem was that she was away at college and he was back home and the drive was very long. He did not mind doing it though and I often saw him on campus with her. I kept telling her that it wasn’t good for them to be together so much because she was giving up on her school work. She said that she knew but she couldn’t help it. Thinking about it now it was good that they spent so much time together. I think that they became best friends, lovers, and confidants all in a very small amount of time. I was a little sad that I did not get to see her as much, but happy that she had finally found the one although I thought she was way to young to make a formal life with him. In my mind there has always been a structure or a career path that everybody should follow, and within that school always came first. Plus she was 19 way to young to settle down. There was always the future, I thought.

I guess that’s a simple way to think about things. Through all this I can see how so much life can be lived in so little time. I learned to be less judgmental. If it felt right to her then there was no reason for me to oppose.

One day she told me that she had told her boyfriend and that she was going to start going to counseling. So she did she started her long quest to find a little bit of peace within her. I wish I could have helped her more with it. I just did not know what to do.

I turns out that her boyfriend was the perfect person to lead her through it. He had been sexually abused too at some point. He had a hard trouble dealing with it, but had finally told his family and they were all very supportive about it. This was all part of the story she shared with me.
He had decided to leave to the United States in search of a better life just like so many other people from Mexico. Later on he wanted to start and orphanage and run it. I told her that would be perfect because she would be a counselor for all those kids.
She also told me the story of how he got here. He had paid someone to help him cross the border. She said that he almost died because the person he paid left him a cold truck. Since they were traveling so long he had lost his sweater and so he was freezing. He felt as if he had already died, but then he felt himself back in his body and the door to the truck opened and he was in the United States. He had come to the United States to find life. Another one of Those people, anyway, I digress, he helped her cope.

I still remember them sitting together in my room. They had come to visit me in college. She had dropped out a couple of months earlier and decided to transfer to some place closer to home so they could be together. She had also left home and they were living together much to her family’s dismay.

I kept telling them that they were too young. They seemed as if they were already married and then they told me it was true they were but this was the only way possible.

Her step-dad was an evil man and she could no longer live at home because her mother was not doing anything about it. Her boyfriend understood and wanted to help her out so he moved out of his aunts house and into a little room where she could live with him. She got a job. To me, it was all so shocking. She was barely getting out of hell with his help.
A couple of months later, she was in a car crash along with her boyfriend that night was the perfect good-bye for me and her. I keep thinking that he should have died in that freezing truck, thousands of other people do die trying to cross the border. God gave him a little more time to help her.
As I write this I still really do not know how to make sense of it all, but in all that pain, I did find God. And her visits and her talks gave me a sense of closure. She is one of the butterflies that actually got to fly.
__________________

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