A Little Variety

Monday (Late).

Trixie had only been at my apartment for an hour, but we were already on the second bottle of wine and I was spilling my woes to her.

"I just don't get why you let him do this to you."
"I don't let him do anything."
"Yes you do. I mean, I know I am busy, but I barely see you anymore. You're always on his schedule and he's always bailing or late or whatever the excuse is."
"But, he's a good guy. We've been friends for so long. We're just going through some stuff."
"You're always going through stuff. You say this every time. And you always have a reason. There are other guys out there. Other guys that would make the time. Or at least make you feel special."
"Matt makes me feel special," I try to say this with some weight in my voice, but what I really feel is shaky. Matt doesn't really make me feel special. But, I want him to. He used to.

Trixie gives me a look, but when she sees my face she softens.

"Well he does. Sometimes," I choke out.
"You always say he made you feel special. But that was before you started dating. It's like he's a different person now or something," she says in a softer voice, aware of my trembling emotions.
"I mean yeah, he used to drop everything for me when we were friends. But it's not like he doesn't do that anymore...," I trail off.
"If he did it now, I wouldn't be here sharing two bottles of wine with you on a Monday."
"Trixxx," I groan.

But she's right.

"I'm right," she says.

I just nod at her.

We take a break from chatting for a minute. Since we're two bottles of wine in, I really have to run to the bathroom. I had my phone on vibrate during our girl talk because I didn't want to get distracted, but I've missed a bunch of messages. "Who the heck is texting me?" I drunkenly think.

It's not Matt. He's busy.

But, one is actually from Matt. Apologizing.

"Babe, I'm really sorry about today. You're right. Let me make it up to you on Wednesday."
I text a quick reply, "Thanks. Okay sounds good."

The other messages are from--guess who?

"Hey, how ya feeling?"
"Hope things are good."
"Did your man show up on time?"
"Looks like it, have fun!"
"Onward to band practice. Text ya later."
"Break time. Looks like you're having a good night. I'm glad. Have fun. We'll chat later."

He was checking in on me. And he was being super nice. And he was the one who was busy and had plans. I feel like an ass.

I fumble with my phone as I try to text him back, "Oh my god, hey. Sorry about that. He bailed on me, so my best friend showed up with wine. I'm a little tipsy. How's band practice?"
I get a response right away. "I'd love to see you like that. ;)"
I blush, "Like what?"
"Tipsy. I bet you're fun."
"I'm not. I cry, ha-ha."
"Awww, I'm sorry. I'd be there for you. I'm sorry about your man. That sucks. What's his deal?"
"He had stuff with his friends. I don't know. I'm bummed."

I realize I'm tearing up. This is sad. A rush of emotions swell up inside me. Half from being mad at Matt and half because I just drank a lot of wine.

"I wish I could give you a big hug."
Before I can think about what I text, I say, "So do I."

And right then and there, I really wish he could.