Unavailable

Standard

A knock on my bedroom door.
I opened it a crack.
Are you available to talk, he asked?
It was late, I was tired,
and I was pretty sure
he wanted to convince me
to take his point of view on something
with which I wholeheartedly disagreed.
Are you available to talk?
No, I said, and shut the door.
No explanation.
I just shut the door.
And it was so satisfying!
After eight years of attempts
at real connection,
of trying to get him to articulate
his true feelings
and receiving criticism
for everything I am
and everything I do,
he has forfeited any right
to be in my presence
when I don’t want him there.
Tonight I was unavailable,
and damn it felt good.

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