i HAVE a CONFESSION...

The truth is, i've just lost my soul-poet love....... he has found someone he believes is more suitable for him. i don't want to admit it, but in a way, he's right. We are so perfectly aligned in almost every way. The parallels which weave in and around our lives are uncanny. The only thing that makes us different are our life goals. But this one thing is a big thing, and so it puts us on different paths.

And i'm hurting so much that i'm trying to overcompensate and seek an outlet for these emotions and feelings that are still whirling around in me.

i don't know why or how, but it has somehow taken the form of an enormous, continual sexual urge that won't go away. This has never happened to me before. This isn't like me to be coming on so strong with men as i have in this forum (and another one previous to this). It's so unlike me. i just wanted you to know this. i apologize if I've seemed overly sexual to some of you. Now you know why. You also now know why i chose the name PoetSeductress. i had set out to find and seduce a poet, because he was (and is) one, himself. This way, maybe it might relieve the pain, as well as the constant, powerful desire that is still inside me which was really meant for him.

This is really very strange. i feel like a nymphomaniac, and i've never felt so consumed by this urge. It wasn't that long ago that i prided myself on being in control of myself, as i, of my own spiritual volition, had decided to remain celibate for a very, very long time, having finally become accustomed to it. But when he and i met in late November and gradually became friends, i knew in my heart of hearts, from the gigantic, invisible, flashing neon signs inside and out, that i had been keeping myself for him, all along, although we'd only recently met. But before the right time had arrived for us to consummate our love, a very aggressive and wild woman came along, seduced him and snatched him away. Psychoanalyzing myself, I guess I'm now trying to be her, now, in an indirect attempt at trying to retrieve him, through a potential love prospect, here.

This only happened at the beginning of this month. Just 45 minutes ago or so, i felt a yearning to finally write a poem for him about it, which one day i'll maybe give him, if i ever hear from him again, and see him. It's one of many i will compose... maybe it will help me to compose myself, and get past it.

i can't believe i'm still crying, right now. It's so silly of me. i'm a grown woman, and didn't just fall off a turnip truck. But here i am, with tears streaming down my face as i type, having acted like a super hussy.

Go figure.