There is an ominous moment of vacant street lamps in the dead of night when you will listen to your high-heels on the street: you are alone once again.

So you get home, turn on the TV, open Facebook, tweet, take drink after drink and a double sleeping pill. It´s urgent to get rid of that black hole made of need and despair which has taken over you. Hopeless and terrified, you wait for the drug to set you free from the wretched woman you really are, the one you hate so much, the one you are so afraid of.

Nonetheless, you get up full of resolve, self-denial or life instinct some hours later -- it doesn´t matter; you don´t like thinking about reasons or causes when you are feeling positive. You choose a hot outfit, fragrance and makeup; you go to your favourite fashionable places in cool company, have lots of drinks, laughter and fun talk -- some of it real, much of it virtual -- and by the end of the evening you´ve got yourself a good lay, no commitments or love in sight. Oh, yes; life  is so worth living to this fullest each day.

Until that dreadful dark moment when you will -- eventually -- find yourself in the dead of night, walking home alone, wanting to die, praying for the quick effect of the sleeping pills.