I step forward as shame consumes me because as hard as I try to avoid temptation, a part of me craves it like a junkie craves a needle full of heroin. My addiction to these men is an illness. I’m an addict who lies and says this is the last time, yet I return repeatedly for another hit. I don’t think about the future, damnation, or how I’ll be judged and persecuted. I only think about the moments they use me, and I’m free.
