It takes a lot for me to think badly of a person. Generally, I try and give second, third, and fourth – more like one hundred – chances before I view someone as an unhealthy companion. Although this might sound sweet, cute, or a nice way to be, I assure you it isn’t.

Time after time, I get wrapped up into drama of my own making, because for the life of me I can’t just put my foot down and say no. Whispers of self-doubt constantly surround my assumptions.

“Maybe you are wrong about them.”

“Aren’t you being too sensitive?”

“I’m sure they mean well.”

Instead of stopping things immediately at my first pangs of discomfort, I giggle, forgive, and lets things pass. Until, I’m miserable and hopeless. Currently, the leech attached to my leg is a colleague of mine. He asked for a ride to work a couple of times. No big deal, we live in the same neighborhood right?

Then he wanted me to drop him off in front of his house, because his gout was acting up. Sure, why not? That’s the nice thing to do!

Twice a week he asked me to drop him off at the grocery store instead of going home. Well, I can get groceries.

Three months later, I’m still giving him rides to work. I got curious one day, and asked him why he didn’t know how to drive. I figured, he might have epilepsy or had a traumatic experience behind the wheel. His response proved that I’m a sucker. Not only does he know how to drive, but he’s just bought a new car. It keeps his Porsche from getting lonely in a three-car garage in the United States.

I’ve put gas into the car several times without him offering a riyal. A discussion about a month ago led to him promising to give me 900 SAR a month for the car, but he hasn’t brought it up since. Last week, I texted him and asked him to give me some money. His response was, “Sure, just show me a receipt and we’ll talk.” My insides aflame, I swallowed my true feelings and attempted to have an adult conversation.

Throughout my twenties, I’ve encountered people like this. People only interested in themselves, and in what I could provide them. I’ve learned to counteract the emotional distress caused by these vampires, but I haven’t quite found the courage to drive a stake into anyone’s heart. I guess that’s what my thirties are for…slaying.