Can You Spare Some Change?

So the weirdest thing happened to me on the subway the other day.

I am an avid rider of the New York City subway system. I've been riding the trains alone since at least high school. My train of choice: the A train. It takes me everywhere I need to go and practically drops me off in front of my house. That train is one after my own heart. Okay, enought of my love affair with the A train.

On my way home Thursday night, a homeless guy boards my car with the usual homeless guy shpiel: "Good evening ladies and gentleman. My name is Aubrey and I'm homeless. I'm out tonight trying to collect money so I could feed myself and my wife." And so on and so on. I look up from my book just to make a visual note of said homeless guy to see if he's crazy. Strange thing, he looks vaguely familiar. I chalk it up to having seen homeless guys beg for money since my days of elementary school field trips.

Come Saturday, I'm on the A train to go in to the city to meet Toe and Tash and go see Wedding Crashers (again!). As the train pulls into Chambers Street, I see familiar homeless guy get on the train and proceed to give the same speech he did just 2 days prior. This time I took a good look at him. And his speech changed slightly. He threw in some jokes about credit cards for good measure. That's when it hit me: I used to hang out with this guy in high school.

We weren't close friends or anything. He was like a friend of a friend. But we used to act a fool around the city after Saturday band practice. The funny thing is he wasn't in the band. He would just meet us after practice and we would proceed to be unruly urban teenagers. The kind of kids that now get on my last nerve. But I digress. It was such a strange thing to see someone I knew in that kind of predicament. I was going to approach him and ask if he remembered me but I didn't. One, because I figured it might be embarassing for him to run into someone who knew him. And two, as a cardinal rule, I do not give out money on the train. I might give some fruit if I've got some on me. But no cash. I guess I didn't want to feel uncomfortable talking to him but not willing to give to his cause.

There was once a homeless guy begging for money on my beloved A train. When I got off at my stop, I saw him in the pizza shop. I figured my good deed for that day would be to offer the man a slice of pizza. He not so subtly informed me that he would prefer the cash to the pizza.

I hope Aubrey was able to feed his wife. And I said a little prayer for him after he got off the train.

I'm being tested

It's funny how things happen in your life and you just feel the need to blog about it.

Tonite, Ohio left me a voicemail. Yes the same Ohio who had just flown in and wanted to come over. For me, a voicemail is so much harder to ignore than a text message. Maybe he thinks that I didn't get it. Or maybe he thinks I'm weak enough to forget about the text and allow him back in my life. Maybe I am. That's why on a Saturday night, I'm blogging about him. To try to convince myself that I am not a weak woman. I'm a strong, independent, self-sufficient black woman. I don't need him. But I want him. And that's what's so dangerous about calling him back. He's always known exactly what to say to make me melt. Make me give in to him. There's no future for us. There's also no one in my life that I could turn to in lieu of him. Am I really the kind of woman who needs someone in her life constantly? I don't think so. But I miss companionship. I miss a warm body in my bed. I actually miss the midnight phone calls.

I'm so sick of feeling alone. And it's this kind of feeling that makes me want to pick up the phone and call him. I won't do it tonite. I'd just be playing myself. Maybe I'll call him tomorrow.

I was on IM with NA and I told her that maybe I'd call him tomorrow but I wouldn't be in the house so if he asked to come over, my excuse could easily be that I'm not home. And I wouldn't be.

Why is this so hard? Do I need an Ohio detox program. Why does this man have such a hold over me?

I can't answer it. So I'm going to try to go to sleep. Or I'll do housework until I can't keep my eyes open. And I should probably stop listening to this damn Raheem DeVaughn CD.