When Relationship Turns Awful

This is one of those stories where you look back and ask yourself: “What the f*ck was I thinking? If you’re broke, the last thing that you should be trying to do is date someone. That’s a lesson that a guy who was as sweet as can be learned when he met me. We met at a friend’s house. You know the usual, drinks, shit talking, good music. My little short self met his eyes, sized up his chocolate skin and 6-foot something frame and liked what I saw. We hit it off immediately. Me being a somewhat accomplished college graduate and radio personality…and him an ex-felon still living at home with his mom.

He caught me at a time when I was just healing from a breakup: 4 years we were together, but that’s a story for another day. Anyway, I figured it would be nothing serious, so we exchanged numbers, had a couple of more drinks and went our separate ways. He gave me a call about a week later inviting me to the annual African festival. We went, but instead of him taking me through the main entrance, he snuck me through the side entrance — because his friend was the security guard. I thought it was a nice gesture, but I was no fool. He was broke, but needless to say I was lonely and wanted the company.

He would come over to my place and chill. We would eat, watch movies and converse about the day’s events. I had my mind made up that he would be in the friend zone, at least until his record was expunged and he got a job. Silly me.

One Sunday he called me up and invited me to a comedy show. The show started at 6:30 P.M. and the doors opened at 6. He suggested that I pick him up, yes I did all of the driving, promptly at 5 P.M. I arrived at his home around 5:30. He already had the tickets so I figured I had a bit more time to get ready. When I picked him up, he seemed frazzled and uncertain. I look to him and asked him if he was okay. He said yes as he looked out of the window.

A few minutes went by and I asked him if he’s okay again. He then informs me that the tickets are first come first serve, that there’s a line and we must be in the front for guaranteed entry. I pause and say, “Well, how much are the tickets?” “$10,” he responded. I said, “Okay, well. if we’re late, we can just pay.” To which he responds, “I was going to ask my mom for some money but…” I grew silent. Silent because I put myself in this position once again. Silent for dating someone who shouldn’t be dating in the first place. He’s trying. That’s what I tell myself.