My Pushy Friend

We could come to your place. Bring you lunch. Make a day of it. That is what I am afraid of. When people come for a day, they stay three. My place is a haven for people who want to talk at me while I want silence so I can write or paint. I am horrified, I truly do not want this in any way, shape or form. She is not even on my short list of besties, she is on my longest list of combatants. Unfortunately, I have been trained to pretend I like everybody, no matter what or how pushy or prissy they are. This serves me well at school, where I have to pretend to like the students, and my co-workers. But this is summer. I do not have to be nice in the summer. I can be myself. I can be silent. I can enjoy my solitude. I will let you know when I am feeling better, I tell her. You will feel better if we plan something, she tells me. “What about Tuesday?” We somehow lose phone connection. She texts me. “See you noon Tuesday.”