the expected visitor
I had a guest today.
The kind that comes uninvited but I knew she was coming.
Sooner than I would have liked but when she arrives I do what I must, let her in, make her a warm beverage, talk things over.
Last time she made a real mess of things. We haven't seen each other in years. She likes to leave pieces of herself in inconvenient places. Little agitant reminders tucked into the margins of my books, in the jackets of my records, in the undusted spaces of my figure shelves, in the little folds of my ill fitting bedsheets.
We sip coffee together. She tells me things I want not hear, but I need to anyway. She overstays her welcome, tries to anyway. Last time she slept on my couch for months, left her cups on my nightstand, left her blood on my toothbrush. This time she knocked over a few things, smoked my cigarettes in my favorite chair, left some hair in my brush... She left in a huff this time, "you've changed, you're just no fun anymore!!". I'm sure she'll call a few times, a text or two over the next month. But for now, she's no longer welcome in my apartment. No reason to dwell on that past anymore.
Next time she's here I bet she'll never even get her foot in the door.