When He Wants to Spend the Night

When he wants

To spend the night

You have to go into the bathroom

And come up with a reason

Why he can’t

He knows you don’t have work tomorrow

That was why

You asked him

To come over

In the first place

He knows you don’t have plans

Or anything

That would prevent

The two of you

From spending the morning

And early afternoon

In bed

Watching a movie

Or, god forbid, talking

If he was one of those guys

Who would just sneak out

Around five or six am

You’d consider

Letting him get comfortable

It would disrupt

Your nightly routine

Of eating Greek yogurt

And watching two to three hours

Of punditry

On the most alarming

Twenty-four hour news station

You come across

While doom-scrolling

Through all the cable television

You can’t believe you pay for

Instead you’d have to

Let him cuddle you

And the two of you

Would fall asleep

But as long as he took off

Without much ceremony

Sometime after dawn

You’d get over it

After all, he was nice enough

To drive all the way over here

After eleven o’clock

When a few glasses of wine

Or more than a few glasses

Inspired you to take advantage

Of a long weekend

A Friday off from work

But nothing to do

On a Thursday night

Because you’re the first

Empty Nester of all your friends

And that means Liz and Ruthie

Still have college applications

Spread out all over their kitchen tables

Next to science projects

And financial aid forms

This is what you get

For befriending people

Who wanted children

So badly

After forty

You can’t imagine

Having to deal with all that now

Even though

It wasn’t that long ago

When Kristen was enmeshed

In all of that as well

Now she’s a plane ride away

And while you are not

The cliched woman

Who doesn’t know

What to do with herself

You do like having someone else

In the house

Between the hours of eight and midnight

For the rest of the time

You’re perfectly content

Being on your own

But it’s strange how loneliness

Is like hunger

When it hits, it hits hard

And then as soon as it’s sated

You never want to see food again

People are like that

You need them so badly

But after an hour or two

With a man in your bed

You start to think

You wouldn’t do so poorly

Living on an island somewhere

Smashing coconuts together

And camouflaging yourself

With mud and papaya pulp

It’s not that they’re not fun

Most of them are fun

Because you’re good

At cultivating and curating

The people you keep

In your life

Even the ones

On the periphery

It’s just that people

Always want

A little more from you

Than you’re willing

To give

Or maybe you sense

How much they want

And you’re inclined

To give a little bit less

While there are plenty of men

Who would be happy

To come over

Share their company

And then take a hike

Wouldn’t it just figure

That those men

Are not the ones

She finds herself

Attracted to

And at a certain age

Spending time in bed

With men you’re not attracted to

Seems almost criminal

While you’re in the bathroom

It occurs to you

That you could always

Pretend to be sick

You run the water

Make some coughing noises

Maybe even start the shower

And ignore his taps on the door at first

Before hoarsely professing

That yes, you’re all right,

But you’ll just call him in the morning

And thanks so much

For the lovely night

The problem is

He’s so kind

He might decide

To stick around

To be sure

You’re okay

And then you’ll either

Be stuck in the bathroom all night

Feigning nausea

Or you’ll have to act as though

It came and went

And sure, let’s read the paper

In bed tomorrow

Like we’re Algonquin lovers

Or an old married couple

Who have let intellect

Take over for passion

She prefers to read

The paper in bed

Alone

Now her Friday

Will be spent

Answering to someone

Someone who wants

To get to know her

Her whole life

A life that is far too eventful

For a Friday morning chat

He’ll want to tell her

About his kids

One is getting married

In a month

And he’ll want

To give her the scoop

On the venue

And how excited

His daughter is

And heaven help her

He might even ask

If he can try his Father of the Bride

Speech out on her

Saved in the Notes app

On his phone

He might even

Invite her

To the wedding

And then there would be

One more thing

She’d need an excuse

To get out of

When he asks to spend the night

There is always the option

To tell him

You don’t think

It’s a good idea

And leave it at that

He’d leave

Without any fuss

But it would hurt his feelings

And it’s doubtful

He would come by again

After that

When you break it down

In your mind

There is really

Only one moment

That makes the anxiety

Well up in your chest

It’s the moment

When his arms

Are around you

And he’s lightly kissing

The back of your neck

Neither one of you

Is asleep yet

But there’s a chance

You’ll get there

Before he does

That moment

Or those minutes

Or those tens of minutes

When you’re asleep

In your bed

And somebody is holding you

Clutching you

Allowing you to rest

While they enjoy

The feeling of trust

It takes

To shut yourself down

Knowing you’ll wake up

With that person

Still letting you know

They’re there?

You don’t know

If you trust anybody

That much

And it isn’t until

You open the bathroom door

Face still damp

From the water

You tossed onto it

That you realize

You can’t remember

The last time

You got

A good

Night’s

Sleep