Fearful pangs of unrequited love. The beloved is alluring, fascinating, pours out a wealth of beauty on other more favoured mortals, sometimes drops a nod or a smile in your direction. Once or twice you happen to be together quietly in the dark, the other relaxed, open, eye to eye with you. But then you plan a party with their name at the head of the guest list; they say they will come if they have time, and never show.
Being in love with the cosmos is not a good idea. At 8.15 this morning the eastern sky looked like this, and not even a bright patch betrayed the place of the sun.
It was so dark that the birds didn’t bother to stop singing for the eclipse as only about three had bothered to start, and those three didn’t notice the difference. At maximum the sky looked like this:
By 10.40 it was all over. At 11.00 the cloud began to thin and a watery and perfectly circular sun appeared. By lunchtime …
In the face of so comprehensive, painful and pointed a snub, what can a lover do?
1 Eat chocolate
2 Go shopping
3 More retail therapy (unwise level of spending)
4 Return to the comfortable arms of an old flame
5 Flirt with a new charmer
No, being in love with the cosmos is not a good idea. It doesn’t care for you and it never, never, will. But of course I know: one smile, one nod, one look from the beloved, and there I will be again. Abject. Adoring.