Home » Uncategorized » Married. Divorced. Dead.

Married. Divorced. Dead.

I suppose at my time of life I need to contemplate spending Eternity in the state I was born in, which is to say alone.

It’s not much consolation to point out that even the most uxorious of persons will return to the soil alone, just as we slid with ease down our mother’s birth canal, alone. (My mother travelled to the hospital by bus, dropped me off and went back to work… She thinks birthing women make a lot of fuss about nothing. I agree. What choice do I have?)

Apart from achieving absolute power over the greatest number of middle-class people, forging a permanent bond with one other human seems for most to be the key driver of the process of living.

If you aren’t a fluent English-speaker, or haven’t done an MBA, ‘key driver’ means – oh, I don’t know what it means, it’s just another empty modern idiom. Nothing to do with keys, or driving.  It means: ‘The most important thing, that makes something else happen’. Whatever floats the boat. Or drives the car. That’s the engine, right?

I did my best. I spent a total of 32 years in a state of permanent bondage to two significant others. And the weekend inbetween, that I deeply regret, with Barbara. If you are still there, sweetie, It was just too soon. Please understand, I overheard your phone call. I froze. I’m so sorry. Add the year I recently spent in temporary thrall to Ms Lovely Person, 23 years younger than I. Than me? But it wasn’t enough for you, you left me for another woman. Damn you!

And the six weeks in 1969 that I lived with Maddie. Weeks I will never forget, bizarre though they were. You set out to do Europe. And you did, bless. You even gave me crabs, which caused such hysteria! I have occasionally wondered about the H-Pap virus, too?

But for the last four years, I have lived alone – apart from Hunzi, my dogfriend. And I have reached an interesting mental state of relaxation as regards relationships. I can now see why monks find it possible to abjure human contact. Sex outside of procreation is completely absurd!

In fact I say this, and I may be the only human being on the planet to stand up, albeit rather limply, and say this: sex is messy and sweaty and pretty pointless and virologically dangerous, it can cost you a lot of money, it ruins perfectly good friendships and it screws up your life.

Only, if you’re the lady I met at the concert on Thursday, please call me. You are utterly adorable.

I don’t know why I said that.


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