I have decided to finally tell my story about how I was sexually molested when I was a young boy. It happened when I was seven, or eight. It has been two decades, and I don’t even know if it’s worth perusing confrontation in my case. I have moved on, and now remember the incident as a bad dream, and it is fading away. I have met him thousands of times since then. I haven’t forgiven him and his company like at the funeral still makes me uncomfortable. Even though I am now grown, I still try not to be alone with him. The only thing is that it has affected my relationship with my extended family. I don’t like their family. I do sometimes wonder if it happened to anyone else, but I am too afraid to talk to them. What if I am the only one? What if it has happened to all of us? What if he is still doing it to his children? Either of the possibilities is nerve racking.