Am I just mean, or is this creepy

A few weeks after I moved in here, I was watching TV late at night.
I heard a loud thump out in the hall, and some moaning. Someone in trouble.
I ran out there and found one of my neighbors sprawled out on the cement floor, his shopping cart all over the place.
I went over and asked him: What are you doing down there?
He was hurt, I could tell. He could not get up, said his arm hurt.
O...k...
Let me call 911 I offered.
Nooo noo.. don't, just try and get me up.
I asked him how in the world he fell.
"I tried to step on this huge cockroach" he said, "but the damn thing was too fast"

It was difficult to get him up. Dead weight.
I didn't know where he was hurt, whether he broke something.
But my experience with picking up immobile humans came to good use.
I grabbed him by his belt and carefully pulled him up/
I unlocked his door and shuffled him inside, along with his shopping cart which was full of bags of ice.
Apparently his fridge was on the blink.
I helped him take his jacket off. and saw his arm was bleeding.
I rolled up his sleeve and found a six inch patch of skin just scraped off his upper arm.

I told him to hang on and went back to my apartment to get some gauze and tape.

After that he said he was fine and thank you.

I thought he was a strange little man. At first thought he might have been a priest, had pictures of all the latest Popes on his wall. The apartment was a mess. He had sprayed bug spray all over all his counters. 

I realized I was in my Christmas Fox nightgown.
How sexy.

A week or so later I see him coming down the hall with his grandson.
His arm in a sling,
He had broken his shoulder in two places, and spent the week in the hospital.

He thanked me profusely.
Then came the boxes of chocolate.
The orchids (I hate orchids)
Then the offer to buy me a pizza
or Chinese.
I told him no, enough is enough.
He left me cards with words like: you saved my life, you are my angel, we'll be best friends for the rest of
my life.

Oh boy.

I managed to steer clear from him, but on Mother's Day he was at my door with a balloon and God only knows what else. I didn't open the door, pretended not to be there.
He tried again the day after. Not interested.

Mind you, found out later this guy  used to be a bus driver, drove people to casinos and such, was from Monterey, California.

80 years old. Hair plastered on his scull with who knows what. Heavy on the aftershave. Natty dresser.

A month  later he rings my bell, stands there with his daughter, introduces me to her like I am his new sweetie. Gave me two cactus plants. I hate cactus plants.

Told him again, thanks, but enough is enough.

The last few weeks he has been ringing my doorbell several times. He is starting to creep me out majorly.
You see, he doesn't stand in front of my door so I can see him, no, he stands in the corner.

Today he ringed again. I asked: Who is it??
No answer
Rings the bell again.
I ask who is it?
No answer.
I wait a few minutes and watched him come out of the corner and slink away.

Now, I am usually a pretty friendly gal. But at this point in my life, I really can't stand pushy people.
I don't want to make friends.
I just want to be left alone.

Maybe that's mean, but I am just being honest.

I now start to feel anxious every time I need to leave the house.

Ridiculous huh.

I will need to face the music sooner or later, and just tell him I am not interested
and I really prefer to be left alone.

SGMKJ