I can, however, imagine what it might feel like, to wake up in the morning only to find an empty crease in the bedsheets, as your lover, having got what he wanted, has crept stealthily away before the sun rises.
I imagine you would feel wretched, used. I Imagine also that you would also feel pretty stupid. I mean fancy falling for the same old cliches. Fancy believing those old undying vows.
And so to General Election 2015. Around 70% of the British populace must be feeling pretty stupid this morning. The politicians have long since fled, having got exactly what they wanted: your vote. No wonder they're smiling. The promises made the night before worked like a treat. The flattery, it worked too. Bingo!
The scoundrels had their wicked way with the British public and now they've fled the scene. They haven't even hung around for breakfast.
They told - implored you to vote - to exercise your 'democratic' right, they also told you your vote mattered, they told you too that you could change the world. And you blushed and giggled like a teenage debutante, hanging onto their every word, swallowing the whole thing hook line and sinker. Bless.
And now in the clear light of day, in your cold, empty bed, the reality starts to sink in. Far from striking a blow for a democracy - as the smiling seducers said you would - it suddenly dawns on you that you have done precisely the opposite: you have actually struck a blow for anti-democracy. Damn those politicians! They'd tell you anything. And they did.
For when the votes are counted, a shocking fact becomes clear: by marking your 'X' so proudly, puffed up with democratic pride and pomp, you have just validated a system that is about as anti-democratic as it gets. Ah, but those seductive rosettes didn't mention anything about that last night as they whispered softly in your ear, did they?
They failed to tell you that the minor political parties, despite polling impressive figures in terms of actual votes cast, would, under a system that is as flawed as it is corrupt, end up with nothing to show for their considerable support.
They didn't tell you as they whispered sweet nothings, that while a party like UKIP can obtain almost 13% of the vote, in parliamentary terms, this will equate to a miserly single, solitary seat. The Labour Party meanwhile, with just over 28% of the vote, will end up with around 225 MPs. They didn't tell you that did they? Must have slipped their minds.
They forgot to mention too, during your night of passion, the strange case of the SNP and The Green Party. Just as they failed to mention the long-time girlfriend, so too they failed to mention that the SNP and Greens enjoy about the same amount of voter support, around 4-5% and yet while the Scottish party end up with over 50 seats, the hapless Greens get just a single representative in Whitehall.
They also failed to mention that our two grand old parties, Labour and Conservative, beacons of democracy, would, under just about any other system - proportional representation or otherwise - lose seat after seat after seat to the so-called minority parties. Electoral reform? Not as long as red and blue rule the roost. Anyway, don't worry your beautiful little head over such trivialities - remember dearest, your vote counts (well er, sort of).
Keeping those secrets firmly locked away, the seducers took their leave, blowing a final kiss as you slept blissfully unaware. Another conquest, all too easy.
Far from feeling outraged, far from feeling like an old tin can, used and discarded, the victims rose early the next day and logged onto the Internet, from where they urged others to follow in their footsteps. "Voting is democratic. Make sure you vote." Hail and heartily sang they from their hymn sheets. The seducers, now safely back in their comfy armchairs, smoking cigars and the best Brandy money could buy, smiled the smile of shepherds whose flocks they know so well.
Some voters - a tiny, miniscule minority - awoke the next morning with a feeling of unease. Somewhere deep inside they knew they had been had, knew they had been lied to. But alas it was too late. They'd done the deed. Five years hence, when all has been forgotten, they'll do it all again.
Happily, amid this legion of misguided souls - democratic one and all - a few brave folk resisted the overtures of seduction. This morning I awoke with a clear conscience, thankful that by not voting in the 2015 General Election, I had stood firm against the harangues of the pro-voting apologists.
At least when I look in the mirror this morning I know that I have not helped validate this parody of democracy. My dignity remains in tact. As for those who voted, those who fervently stood up for 'Democracy', your next one-night stand is only five years away...