I need a new start, not have my failed love life recycled for me! (Poem)
By Stanley Collymore
You audaciously approached me and confidently introduced yourself
to me, after which you sportingly and interestingly spoke to me, a
conversation in which quite engagingly you told me, while in
the process dexterously persuading me with all the prowess
that you could muster to listen to every word of what you
were appealingly saying to me, and noticeably doing so
with all the composure, indisputable conviction, and
the unfettered sophistication of an unquestionably cultured and
humorous gentleman who strikingly in elucidation but even
so delightfully, calmly and most decisively, knew with a
perceptibly undiminished intelligibility and unbridled
certainty what he was distinctly after. Then ensued
to totally and uninhibitedly readily convince me
that from the very start– in effect the precise
moment that you first saw me, how you’d
become beguilingly besotted with me.
And consequently if how you felt about me was the undoubted
stirrings of love for me, then quite unreservedly, as well as
unapologetically, your unmitigated plea relative to how
exactly you both emotionally and romantically cared
for me was, you additionally frankly stated, most
emphatically simply a combined situation, in
logical terms, of your being positively but
also shamelessly guilty of having deeply
and fervently fallen in love with me.
However, secretly on the rebound from a
rather nasty, malevolently controlling,
one-sidedly giving– you’ve guessed
it absolutely correctly that it was
exclusively me doing all the
giving in that marital relationship– an
especially psychologically unrewarding, most
damaging emotionally and an unfalteringly
subjected to serially adulterous, and a
pernicious nightmare of a marriage
that I eventually summoned up
what little courage I had left
to finally free myself from
a domineering brute of
a husband via taking
the pragmatic step
which previously
I ought to have
straightaway
engaged on,
and simply
divorced
this man.
And on having achieved that, my undoubted lack of
self-confidence fastened to my perceived, deeply
embedded and an intrinsically, socially fearful
embarrassment of my being a failure as a
wife that I firmly construed as being all
my fault, and which previously and
collectively had cowardly precluded me from
lawfully embarking on what quite naturally
and understandably should unequivocally
have been an entirely understandable,
feasible and a reasonable course of
action level-headedly filing for a
divorce from this monster of a
man that I’d voluntarily and
fondly married, somewhat
regrettably for me I can
only say hadn’t earlier
and quite regrettably
didn’t occur to me.
However, with that now done and notwithstanding
the evident and unaccustomed to situation of me
being a woman who was now completely as it
happened on my own, and to whom all this
was pragmatically something of a rather
worrying innovation for me, I was all
the same quite persevering, as I did
everything physically achievable
in my power to reassure myself
of this, that I was at last free
and consequently entirely at liberty to do what I
convincingly and honestly regarded was best
both for me and my future. And although I
was likewise completely aware of what a
testing undertaking it would obviously
be to lastingly bury the past, totally
forget what I’d petrifyingly and
improperly allowed myself to
occur to me, while insanely
and lastingly discarding
my irrefutably aimless
but specified role, in
name only I readily
confess, as a wife
although luckily,
and thank God
not as a Mum,
and accordingly having mercifully
escaped from those absolutely
depressing aforementioned
circumstances reasonably
sensibly and with luck
confidently move on
surely with my life.
This is my earnest ambition and, in effect, what I’d
genuinely like for things in their fullest fruition
but most specifically in respect of myself to
be, although realistically the subsequent
outcome, I’m fully aware, could very
well be a wholly different scenario,
in lots of complicated and even
somewhat perplexing ways,
from what optimistically in my steadfast hopes
and honest aspirations I would certainly and
undoubtedly quite prefer for the eventual
end result to be. Yet here you evidently
are, and basically something which I
mustn’t opportunely overlook nor
casually forget, a total stranger
to me and declaring the kind
of absorbing things that my
motivated heart truthfully
wants to hear but on the
contrary my distinctly
wary head, however,
is a lot cagier about?
And in this unclear
process robustly
throwing, I can
genuinely say,
my emotional
balance into
a condition
emotional
disarray.
So how then am I supposed to honestly know much less
so clear-headedly, correctly and indisputably deduce
with any absolute certainty that’s obviously and
understandably triggered and then spurred on
by the provocateurs of my preceding and
unhappy circumstances, that what you
purposefully claim you’re sincerely
saying to me isn’t fundamentally
nothing more than the selfishly
manufactured fantasy of a very vivid imagination that
is itself linked with the egotistical and deliberately
unequivocal self-aggrandizing machinations of
an entirely conniving as well as a thoroughly
seasoned Lothario, whose deftly executed
but nevertheless unsupported flattering
declarations of undying love for me
consciously have no affinity at all
with the latter or for that matter,
credibly makes any concession
for the affirmation of reality.
A state of affairs, which if not examined by me and earnestly
challenged if necessary could in all probability, and at the
least, be ruthlessly, falsely, intentionally malevolently,
totally self-servingly and, in all of this, rather injuriously
to me, be unscrupulously employed to cast me back to
the entirely untenable situation that with substantial
difficulty, but even so, I did in the end succeed in
fleeing from. An appalling situation that had previously and
inescapably for me, while I was helplessly ensnared by it,
emphatically rendered me a nobody, who was likewise
perceived as somebody who was only worthy of the
greatest disdain; therefore, the uncivil appellation
which then in reality and now in most wounding
remembrance I still inescapably bear the scars
of, and don’t mind admitting that I do resent.
So what’s it to be my unfamiliar but all the same relentless
suitor? And before you sally forth with any of your glib
answers I’d like for you this time to think carefully
about what you might wish to say to me as you
likewise bear in mind this genuine request of
mine. For I’d personally like for you to supply me with an
honest and original answer whatever that might be. For
only then can I truly satisfy myself by what you’ve
said or crucially omitted in your explanation to
me whether, as you’d like for me to believe,
this supposed adoration by you for me is
genuinely the dawning of a bright and
rather meaningful future for the two
of us together. Or conceivably the
quite gripping but meretricious
beginning of an illusionary romantic mirage
that could well prove to be immeasurably
detrimental to the emotional welfare of
a still unsure of herself and therefore
a highly vulnerable woman like me!
Stanley V. Collymore
1 November 2017.
Author’s Comments:
Inevitably, at some time or other, most people regardless of who they are, what their racial or ethnic origins might be, irrespective of their religious, agnostic or atheistic views, what they do or don’t do for a living, their personally identifiable class, social or educational background; their ingrained political loyalties or none, the power and or influence that they wield or more like than not the manipulated sycophancy that they readily subvert themselves to, how grotesquely and graspingly rich or generally pathetically and miserably poor they happen to be; how immaturely young or seasoned old they are, what their birth or subsequently acquired nationality is, the robust state or otherwise of their health and daily life, or where in the world they either choose or are forced to live, whether they’re incarcerated in prison or at liberty to live and lead their own life as they see fit, will unhappily and even emotionally destructive for them find themselves romantically spurned by at least one and possibly even several prospective lovers and thus be very much on the dismissive end of a love that they’ve both willingly and freely offered to another person but which in return is roundly rejected as it is likewise unreciprocated.
Well, there’s a general saying that there’s no accounting for personal taste and amidst the vicissitudes of everyday life when it actually comes to factoring into the love stakes this truism couldn’t be any more applicable than it already is. And not unsurprising in this love equation is how each affected individual specifically reacts to his or her romantic rejection that in turn depends on a number of tangible as well as imperceptible factors.
For instance, there are those who’ll use the fallout from their rejection, painful as it might be, to judiciously and sensibly re-examine their personal approach to all future romantic affairs that directly involve themselves and then use the information they’ve collated and the analysis they’re arrived at as a fitting platform to more solidly construct for themselves what exactly it is that they actually want from life in terms of romance, and having ascertained that accordingly get on with it.
Others though tend to dwell inordinately on their rejection and as a consequence of that become bitter and twisted persons for the rest of their life. However, there are those who on reflexion see their rejection as a providential escape for them and gratefully thank their lucky stars for the enforced situation that at the time they were placed in. But unfortunately there will be those who finding themselves utterly despondent at what has happened to them will seek release from their perceived shame and embarrassment by killing themselves.
Then there’s another category of persons who obsessively imbued with a manifestly pronounced and delusional sense of their own egotistical importance and the perverse notion of how dare anyone do something like this to me, will malevolently set out for the remainder of their pathetic life to exact revenge. And prompts the obvious question, for me anyway, which of these categories, or none of them, do you consider yourself as belonging to? Or perhaps you’re one of those android-type creatures totally and uncaringly devoid of all emotional feelings. And the characteristically sentient and sane among us Homo sapiens will intuitively know the sorts of individuals I’m specifically referring to.
For we routinely observe them on a daily basis unwarrantedly, incompetently, corruptly and criminally occupying our supposedly democratic, but we know otherwise, parliaments, other institutionalized fora of power and influence and effectively postulating themselves not only as parliamentarians but even more seriously and worryingly so as prime ministers, cabinet ministers and even presidents of our respective countries.
Disproportionately so, it must be cogently stated, to their actual numbers in the much wider population that significantly comprises us Homo sapiens and that these alien oiks have both manipulatively and controlling foisted themselves upon, while ludicrously and risibly, if it wasn’t such a bloody serious matter, ascribing to themselves the bogus epithet of the “privileged elites”. Among whom I often wonder? And so far I’ve been unable to discern either a clear-cut or convincing answer to this idiotic conundrum of theirs!
