paranoia/poetry

I seem to be experiencing a bit of a paranoid streak, especially about people suddenly/unexpectedly losing interest in me - and how am I to know when that might happen or why?

Perhaps this is semi-related to being a semi-recently divorced woman who feels emotionally uncertain about love and even about significant relationships - but who really craves love and an intense relationship with the right individual- but who knows that even longterm love and intensity might suddenly/unexpectedly ebb.

It worries me (maybe too much) if someone I am involved with and feel strongly about seems to suddenly diverge from frequent, intense correspondence to less frequent, intense correspondence. He might just be having an odd spell or a small episode of a bad series of days, BUT it makes me wonder if I somehow unexpectedly managed to turn him off. If so, I wish he would tell me why/how, instead of just keeping it to himself.

Even if I didn't do anything that turned him off; even if less correspondence is not related to lack of interest, I also don't want a man I feel super-strongly and intensely about to be one of those sorts who turns it down after he thinks he's gotten a woman who really likes him. I would much rather have a man who turns it up up UP as the relationship gets more significant.

I do seem to have a paranoid streak about relationships suddenly/unexpectedly ending and this fused with my insecurity issues might make me a tough woman to deal with for many men. But I don't want many men - and I don't want a man who wants many women. I want a special, creative, darkly delicious morsel of a man who truly wants me back & forth and who often tries his best to convince me of such.

I seem to be worrying too much about possible ebbings instead of focusing on wonderfully positive presents.

Please don't give up.

******

Here is a poem from my Thirteen Designer Vaginas chapbook -

Designer Vagina

I got sucked into a black hole
of sensation, tied up with pretty pink rib-
bon. I need to find out if I’m tightly bound
or decorated; intact or slaveringly masticated
bonbon. Inside my designer gift box,
am I tied down or am I a good time release
capsule? If he doesn’t deserve the present;
if he’s stuck in his desire for the past, then should I
wish to be unwrapped by someone who is wishing for me?
All these frills and frayed edges don’t come cheap


I read that piece at a very fun-filled poetry reading I participated in this past weekend with my scrumpdelicious poet friend Margaret Bashaar. We each read several of our own poems plus a poem from each other's chapbook, published by each of our small presses.

So Marg. read one of my poems from my Thirteen Designer Vagina's, published by her Hyacinth Girl Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/77707618/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook)

And I read a poem from her Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel, published by my Blood Pudding Press (available here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/82732178/halloween-horror-poetry-letters-from)

I wish I had some photos from the reading, but alas!

I was also wonderfully thrilled that my exceptionally special yumfest PoetJoe attended the reading and spent time with me afterwords. Later this month, the two of us will be having all kinds of darkly delicious fun during a horror film fest weekend. Yay!

I hope he can handle my insecure/paranoid streaks and does not grow overly fed up and tired of me.