I met a man today.
His name was Jamie.
In the hustle and bustle of central London he was the only person to notice I needed help.
Everyone rushing and pushing.
I could feel the seizures building.
I was trapped.
No one noticed.
No one except Jamie.
He got me to sit down safely and made sure I was okay.
He gave me some of his food.
Food he probably needed far more than I ever did.
And we spoke.
He told me of the rock bottom he’s currently at and desperate to get out of.
I spoke of the downward spiral I’m in. How I had caught myself but stuff happened and now I’m falling again.
He spoke of all the mistakes he’s made.
I told him we’re only human and spoke about mine.
We spoke more.
And we laughed.
Oh we laughed about the people judging us and the ones checking I was okay because only now were they concerned about me.
They asked if I was okay and why I was hanging out with this man.
I responded, that this man was my friend.
If only you could have seen the look on his face.
Jamie was selling fruit to try get into a shelter so he could have a shower because he was trying to get a job as a cleaner at a restaurant tomorrow morning.
I tried to buy some off him.
He responded, I don’t charge my friends.
If only you could’ve seen the look on my face.