My Mistake

My Mistake Part 1

The moment the idea occurs to me I get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I've been passing the posters announcing the concert for weeks wishing to go. It's the day of and I wonder if maybe I could make it happen. To do something this whimsical feels unlike me, but I take out my phone and send an invitation, excitement joining my nervousness. That invite should have been to my boyfriend but I doubt he'd want to go. Even if he did agree he'd just be doing it as a favor to me. I want someone with me that might actually enjoy themselves. It's so much easier to have fun when the people around you are having a good time too I ration. I quickly google prices, they're not cheap and they're not great seats, but the impulse wins over my frugality. Kevin replies asking for more details, I answer his questions and tell him they're on me, hoping to eliminate any potential excuses for him not to come. Hopefully he is delighting in my whimsy as much as I am. He doesn't actually know the music well, he tells me. But when the- I am in! - text comes anyway, I grin broadly. The nervous feeling in my stomach deepens.

We agree to hang out before the concert since it starts at 9. I run home from work and change then rush to his place, filled with a thrill. My boyfriend and I didn't have plans tonight, so I haven't told him what I've decided to do yet. As a general rule I let him text me first if I can resist the urge to. I am trying to let him set the pace on how much texting he deems desirable. I am used to texting my partner all day everyday when I am away from them. What are you doing? What are you thinking? What did you eat? On and on building the bridge of connection until I see them next. I never questioned this as overbearing. My partners usually seemed eager, and welcomed my constant companionship through their phones. I thought it was normal, but right away I could tell that wasn't what he wanted. This boyfriend of mine is unlike any of my others, and 7 months in I still find him a difficult puzzle to piece together at times. He's a fun puzzle though. Evan knows, in a broad sense, that I often meet up with my similarly named friend Kevin. Before I started dating anyone seriously it was important that they were accepting of my friendship with an ex boyfriend. It wasn't something I was willing to negotiate. They either trusted it or not. Evan didn't blink an eye, he offered me very little drama, and nothing but straightforward honest communication. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

I wait for Kevin to ring me up outside his apartment building. I hear the buzz and take the familiar elevator up. Like always he greets me with a big smile and even bigger hug. He motions me inside, and I walk tentatively in after him. I am still not completely used to being in Kevin's apartment even though I stop by often. I can't shake the feeling of being somewhere I am not supposed to be. I take in the organized room, I register the many familiar things from our past, and make note of the many new unfamiliar things while he finishes getting ready. I feel like I'm in a museum, afraid to touch anything, so I stand in the middle of the room. I notice a date written on the dry erase board on his refrigerator.

"What's that date for?" I ask, pointing to it.

"That's the date the girlfriend and I can finally have sex again." He says gleefully from the other room. I laugh.

"Is she feeling okay after her surgery?"

"Yea she's recovering." He says loudly

"Good." I say.

I've never met his girlfriend but I feel like I know her very well.

"Let's go to that new sushi place," he suggests when he finishes getting ready.

"Uchi? Are you sure? It's expensive."

"Yea, let's do it, we can splurge!"

I whimper internally, not wanting to think of the splurging I already did on the concert tickets. But I hesitate to shut down his enthusiasm.