I must be mad!

I am either crazy, damn, really kind or downright stupid - could be a mixture of all the four. The jury is still out in this little head that I call mine.

People that read this blog might remember that I was planning to move house a while ago. Well, I did. I move slightly further out of town and live in a two bed roomed flat alone. A couple of months ago, whilst out on a shindig I met this nice boy. Not nice in the sense that I wanted him or anything like that; he was just a nice person. He was apparently drawn to me the from the moment he met - he didn’t tell me this, his friends did. We sort of rang out with the same bunch of people so each time I wasn’t out with them he’d ask where I was etc.

As we got to know each other, I decided to pry into his life. Oh what a big mistake! He told me everything about himself and his family. The alcoholic father, the death of his mother, his gay brother that hates him, his drugged up past, the physically abusive ex-boyfriend and finally being unemployed and homeless. Ooh, I forgot to mention the escorting. He told me this over the space of about 2 hours in a club with really loud music. You have no idea what was going through my mind. I had to stop him the end and told him that it neither the right time nor place to have conversations like that. He agreed, I left and to go and get my self a couple of tequilas. I really needed them after a convo like that.

I didn’t see him for a couple of months – purely because I decided to cut down on the intake of social juice. You can have too much of a good thing sometimes to the point of wearing yourself out. Which is what I felt was happening to me.

Last bank holiday me and a friend decided to go to Trade@Orange (Fire) -yes I still go there on the odd occasion. I bumped into this friend. He went off on one again. This time he was in tears, he desperately wanted somewhere to stay. He was sharing a small bedroom in Vauxhall with no window with another girl and they were paying around £140 a week for the rent. I said I’d see.

I went away and I thought about it. I rang him about two weeks later and told him he could move in temporarily until he sorted himself out. You must think I’m mad to do such a thing. After all, I know nothing about the boy apart from all the stuff he’s told me. It could all be lies and fairy tale sob stories so he can find somewhere free to crash. All those things went through my mind before I actually said he could come and stay. Nevertheless, I’m the sort of person who can’t bear to see people suffer. I just thought he was the sort of person that needed a break from what he told me. I suspect that he ended up with the wrong crowd, which is the reason he ended up where he is. I go out more than the average person but I’ve always worried about over doing it to the extent that I end up loosing my job or home.

He’s been living with me for 3 weeks. He hasn’t been out – well living that far out of town doesn’t really encourage anyone to go out. The one good thing is that he doesn’t drink (alcohol). It’s a good thing for me because I find that I don’t drink as much when I’m around him. The one thing he does that annoys me is how much food he eats – he eats an unbelievable quantity of food. However, the boy is really skinny which makes me wonder how he manages to do that.

I have to say, it’s been good so far. How long this is going to last, I have no idea. If he does fuck up, he knows he’ll end up on the street. I hope he bears that mind.

There’ll be more of this to come. I’m sure.