Once the auditorium had cleared a little, he found his way to where I sat in the back row, waiting. He sat down next to me, moving past me to get into the seat. I liked that he didn’t ask me to move for his convenience. It reminded me that I can take up space as I wish.
Then came the apologies. For not being around on my birthday, for being so busy backstage that he couldn’t come sit with me, for supposedly “letting me down four times today.” I didn’t know where he was getting this.
“Some things are a little more important than coming to school. It really is fine.”
“But it’s your birthday, and I made you cry!” He was too exasperated, too quick to blame the low points of the day on himself.
“/You/ didn’t make me cry, the circumstances did.” I shifted in my seat, pointed my body toward his only to find he had just done the same thing. “I was sad because you were feeling sick. But now you’re here, and that’s what matters.”
“I still let you down.”
“You did not.”
The conversation went on from there, never ceasing until his sister came to tell him their dad had arrived. In the lobby, as farewell, we hugged. I didn’t want to let go because he was warm and kind and wanted me to be happier than I had been.
I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t think he was a keeper.