I remember the ground was really damp, and the bugs were biting me all night. At the time I didn’t think this, but in retrospect I realize this is how being homeless starts. I was sleeping in a field, or at least trying to. When the sun came up, so did I. I staggered to a local mall that wasn’t open yet, and stashed the blanket that someone had given me under a mailbox. When I went back to look for it, it was gone. I walked to a gas station and bought a honeybun and some coffee for breakfast with the change in my pocket. Trust me, you don’t want to know where I got that. Sometime that afternoon I ended up at my girlfriends place. I showered there, her parents were at work. We were just kids – I had no clue what I was going to do, and completely didn’t give a fuck. We made love and she gave me a sandwich. I left before her parents got home, and made my way to a friends house to hang out until the bars opened.
I was desperate and had no where to go, but I was free! No crazy person beating the shit out of me. Being homeless sucked, but it was better than that.
This was a good chunk of my teenage years. I remember every day away from home I was hungry, dirty, and happy to be free. Somehow I lived through that and thought it was no big deal.
It’s a miracle I stayed out of jail. We won’t count juvie – those records are sealed…