I'm Nate Marshall and this is The Slowdown.

I admit that I love solitude.

I suspect that this tendency towards aloneness is one that was cultivated in me as a child

because I was bookish and because I was the only boy in the house which meant that

past a certain age, I was given more space and thus more solitude.

This is not to say that I don't love people, I certainly do.

But as much as I can enjoy a night out dancing or a raucous tailgate before a football game

or a great dinner party with abundant conversation and libation, there is just something about

being in my own space with my own thoughts and being able to place things just so.

It is perhaps a good thing that I find solace in solo moments since it is so often what

is required to make writing happen.

I do love being invited to social functions and sometimes I deeply enjoy being at the function

but there is a deliciousness in declining with regrets just to brew my own tea and have

my own time.

I think one of the richest forms of aloneness is just after a beloved takes their exit,

particularly on good terms.

In those moments you can feel safe in the knowledge that you are not alone in the world, simply

alone in this moment and what a precious freedom that can be.

Today's poem is about that delight and solitude, especially when it might have come after

a lover overstaying their welcome just a bit.

A man in my bed like Cracker Crumbs by Sandra Cisnetos.

I've stripped the bed, shaken the sheets and slumped those fat pillows like tired tongues

...