Dear Lord Immanuel,
Every time I find a man to scratch my itch it becomes an infected wound. These temporary fixes are truly controllable diseases. I make the matters worse every time by cheating on my waiting diet by indulging my craving of intimacy. Waiting is a lifestyle, help me to see it as a desirable, beneficial way of living than taste testing my fantasies every so often is, leaving me feeling worse than before, more heightened to the sensitivity of the wrong man gaining from me what does not belong to him. Let there be enough of me for the right man to enjoy. Fill my pecked, scarred soul with your grace and mercy. Please have me as your daughter, follower, friend and wife.Â