really, really rough. Simply looking at raw emotion for the question above.
| I never thought that I would be like this. I have become what I had despised, but do not despise myself. Is this my lesson? That to incriminate someone is to see through narrow eyes, and completely miss the beauty of the picture? Of course my moral standards stand as they were, and thus the constant internal dilemma. I wake each day knowing who I am, and that I could be better. Perhaps it is sin with it's sweet tune, and my readers will probably see the obvious answer: run. Run far away from the temptress before you find yourself welcoming the arms of Satan. Well for those of you who are religious and/or are offended by this, forgive me and hate me as you will.
But I just don't care.
I have never felt so alive and so carefree. I grew up in such a sheltered society where, though the jokes were present, the thought was still vulgar. People still shunned it and those who practiced it, and it was not a common occurrence. My parents would always love me and my friends stand by me, but I can still lose their respect. That is what I fear. Not the arms of Satan. Not the Waking each morning. I fear only that I stand alone.
But that is the beauty of anonymity. So here's my question: can you support a woman who has fallen into the trap of passion? Can you support one who loves two men at a time, and leaves one to find yet another?
Can you support a whore?