
I don’t judge. I know that everyone has gone through some shit. Some of us drink in the comfort of our own homes to drown out the pain, and the others, do drugs in the street. I don’t give a damn what you do. As long as you’re a kind person you could be a homeless, heroin addict and I’d catch feelings for you, and that’s exactly what I did.
We met on the train one night in Philly. I had seen him panhandling a couple times and he looked interesting. He didn’t look like the other homeless people I had seen around the city. So, me being the curious person that I am, I propositioned him: I told him I’d give him some money if he sat down and told me his story.
He told me he had it all, a girl, a job, etc., but he got addicted to Percocet. Since he held up his end of the bargain I gave him twenty dollars. When he was getting off the train he looked down and saw how much I had given him. He turned around and said, “Thank you so much! My name’s ****, what’s your name? Kursteen? Thank you! I’ll see you around.” After that I would see him and he’d sit next to me and talk for a little bit. And after a while he would get on a specific train to find me so we could see each other. Sounds sweet, doesn’t it?
One day I saw him and we agreed to go to brunch. He looked nervous and I asked what was wrong. He said, “There’s something I need to tell you and I’m afraid of how you’ll take it, but I’d rather you hear it from me.” So during brunch he told me it wasn’t percs that was his downfall, it was heroin. After a dramatic pause from him I was like, “…ok?” He asked if that frightened me at all and I said no. A former heroin addiction didn’t scare me. “As long as you’re not doing it now and not planning on doing it in the future then I don’t care. After that we grew closer and developed feelings for each other, or so I thought.
I knew I developed feelings for him when I went a week without seeing him. I missed our talks. I missed feeling like we were the only two people on the train. I realized, after an unsuccessful night of searching for him, I had developed feelings for him.
I went to the movies one night feeling a little crappy. I had to see him. As I got off at 34th Street Station, I sat there feeling hopeless. I decided to give up and go home. I stood up as the train was coming and as it came to a stop, there he was standing right in front of me. It was like a dream and I couldn’t stop smiling.
We talked and wandered around. On the train ride back I asked him the question that was burning inside of me for a while, “Do you like me”? He said, “Yes, you already know that.” I asked him if he liked me more than a friend and he said yes.
I bet at this point you’re thinking it’s going to be a happy ending, that he just got sober and made me his girlfriend. Well, you’re half-right. I was so naive I didn’t see the signs. He was playing me the entire time. He was the first guy that I thought liked me back, but he just used me, for comfort and money.
Fast forward to today, he’s sober, has his own apartment, a car, and a job. The last time I saw him was probably three years ago. He wasn’t a homeless, heroin addict anymore, but he was different. He wasn’t the same sweet man I met on the train. I don’t think he ever was to be honest.
I was so desperate for love and to not be lonely I didn’t see this guy was playing me. I even chased him a couple times which was so embarrassing. Did I learn something from all of that? I’ll let you know what my therapist thinks.
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