Remarkably she found herself in the same uncanny predicament.
Once could be overlooked.
Twice, mere coincidence.
Third and she mused over happenstance.
But four?? W-w-wait a minute.
How, oh how, she marveled, could she get dumped
by a fourth guy she held no interest in?
How was it even possible that the seemingly shy introverts
housed egos capable of imagining such amorous eyes?
And where were the days of yesteryear,
of chums and buds and coffee without presumption?
Was she on a hidden camera show,
unknowingly providing hours of entertainment to scores of judging gazes??
Somewhere Narcissus held the answer.
She knew scattered amidst her disbelief that her experience, in fact,
eradicated her surprise. Though, much to her downfall,
she maintained that it was THEM and not HER,
even if the laws of mathematics proved otherwise.
The common denominator she embodied, true.
But her misguided hopefulness guided her tripping steps
into scenario after scenario.
And maybe, she marvelled, that was a good thing.
'THIS one,' she held onto, 'marks something new.'
Perhaps for those shared smiles,
the shallow poses feigned newness.
Or perhaps through heart framed glasses
she saw sunshine where grey shattered fragments housed insecurities.
She knew it was nothing au courant.
Same squelching sun.
Same misguided delusions of amour.
But still, the familiar loss waned her effervescence.
And so she filed one away, next chapter, same book,
to recall at a later date over champagne and disregard.
He too could be blinked away,
'tis a matter of mere chance.
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