Why do all the single people I encounter automatically assume that because I'm single too that I'm looking for a lover. Then find it hard to accept that because they are available they are a candidate for this fabricated position in my life? Why do past lovers assume that I hanker after them long after the dust has settled and imagine I'll welcome them with open arms and gratitude for their renewed attentions? Words fail me when faced with this level of arrogance, but Carol Ann Duffy sums it up beautifully...
To the Unknown Lover
Horrifying, the very thought of you
whoever you are,
future knife to my scar,
stay where you are.
Be handsome, beautiful, drop-dead
gorgeous, keep away.
Read my lips.
No way. OK?
This old heart of mine's
an empty purse.
These ears are closed.
Don't phone, want dinner,
make things worse.
Your little quirks?
Your wee endearing ways?
What makes you you, all that?
Stuff it, mount it, hang it
on the wall, sell tickets,
I won't come. Get back. Get lost.
Get real. Get a life. Keep schtum.
And just, you must, remember this -
there'll be no kiss, no clinch,
no smoochy dance, no true romance.
You are Anonymous. You're Who?
Here's not looking, kid, at you.
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