Ever since God commended Noah: ‘And of every living thing of all flesh, two of every sort shalt thou bring into the ark, to keep them alive with thee, ’ to be coupled is proper and the disconnected female is depreciated. God’s edict was not simply for procreation. He knew just how the unconnected female would stand out like a country dunny and unlike Cinderalla she could not go alone to the ball.
So what happens when you’re been given the flick, dumped, told - ’it’s over.’ Disbelief, tears, anger, followed by tears, etc etc. From the sympathetic, “There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” Buggar that! You don’t want a fish - just him. Or, from the smug in their compledom, “Get over it. Stuff happens.”
You feel like a displaced person, a persona non grata by the two-by-two’s when invitations to fun nights and days are not emailed to Charlene AND Gary. It takes time to sleep without the familiar body beside you and time for memories to be extinguished. So what do you do? A bit of man poaching? Secondhand books and recycle clothes are one thing but the partner of a friend is a no-no. To add insult to agony, you hear he’s taken up with a short-arsed, fat frump with the brain of a gnat (your unbiased description.)
You are beautiful, talented, and smart. He’s an idiot not to appreciate the treasure he’s lost - but a discerning someone will. Believe me, one day your prince will come. Just you wait. Like the cosmetic ad says, “Why? Because you’re worth it.” Think on that.