I was waiting for the #9 bus to downtown when I saw her across the crowded street, sitting alone in the park. Her voice pushed away all the street noise as it found its way to my ears. Her blond hair and white tank top accentuated her beauty as her silhouette shimmered in and out of the early morning mist. I thought at first, she was a dream. Just the wishful imaginings of my tormented existence.

The only way to find out, I thought, “Just go say hello. What’s the worst that can happen?“

It started simply enough with one of those lame conversations about the weather. But there was an attraction that both of us felt. That first hello led to coffee and then dinners, movies, dancing and passionate weekends. Then came the dinners with our families and friends. She moved in the next fall.

As my job became more demanding it started requiring late nights and weekends. As time went on, she was left alone more and more. But she remained patient and my love for her was still strong. Until the night I came home to find her eyes filled with tears and her bags setting beside the door. The love she had for me was gone she said, and she vanished into the city streets, leaving me in a depression that only alcohol and drugs would cure. I lost my job, my apartment and eventually ended up on the street.

A sudden shiver brought me back to reality. “It’s just not worth the hassle,” I thought as I stepped onto the #9 to downtown, leaving her to sing her songs to another poor fool. Maybe he can buy her a damn coffee.