It was Oscar Wilde, I think, who once said something like, "If you don't want to be lonely, then don't get married."
How full of marriages life seems to be. How full of loneliness. My spouse, my job, my beliefs, my love, my suntan lotion, my religion, my socks, my anger, my laughter, my computer screen, my Twinkies. It's as if there were some imperative to rest on a perpetual bended knee, saying to life's offerings, "Marry me!"
And life, with a gentle but puckish smile, murmurs "Yes, of course."
You might think that receiving the answer that was so desired might raise us from this bended-knee. But instead we remain rooted to the habitual spot, petitioning yet another fershur salvor ... "Marry me."
A vast polygamy is afoot.
Lonely as a group of cheerleaders.