The Perfect Woman

He met her at seventeen.
She promised to love him forever,
Then promptly disappeared.

He met her at twenty.
She proceeded to fill his life with boredom
and demands for pity.

He met her at thirty.
She decided that fidelity didn’t exclude friends
and he stayed home to watch the kids.

He met her at fifty,
Or so she said.
Fuck this shit,
I am better off alone,
Than to put up with continuous mental games,
Just for a bit of friction against my cock.

He now lives alone,
In a small place,
Where there is peace.
No demands for recognition,
No demands for compliments,
No fucking mind games to help settle emotional states.
One coffee cup in the cupboard,
Peace throughout.

Sure, he might not be found for days after death,
But that is a small price to pay for peace now.
If only he could tell that seventeen year old boy,
What he knows now.

The perfect woman is with him now,
sitting in the empty chair across from his morning coffee.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
15 February 2013