the soundtrack to our lives

I first noticed your eyes hiding behind your square eye frames. You ordered a coffee, which intrigued me, being in was almost midnight. Your dark skin was smooth, you had such a polished presence. You started telling me about your travels, and I stared hypnotized by something I could not comprehend. "Ask me a question," you say staring at me over the top of your glasses. I sunk into the booth, and said, "tell me a story about....drugs." I felt my cheeks flush, as I realized I had asked such a thing to someone I didn't know. You averted your eyes, gave a painful laugh, and said..."Oh I have plenty of stories...What are you searching for? Do you want to know that I was a heroine addict at 16?" I looked away, feeling sheepish and curious. "Why did you stop?" I asked, wondering if you really had. "I tried to kill myself at 16, I guess that was a wakeup call," the pain lacing itself in and out of your tone of voice. I studied his mouth, as he placed his hands over his right forearm, remembering as he caught me staring. "I still have track marks if that's what you want...?" he said, annoyed and his voice hardened. "Oh no, I'm sorry..I didn't mean-. Look I don't judge people okay?" I nervously stammered, as he stared right through me, trying to unveil my true intentions.
I wonder if I will ever see you again?