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It was the evening of August 18th, 2010, I only had two weeks remaining before I left you again for the second time in our relationship. You came to find me at my aunt's house, and I eagerly jumped into your arms, having missed your presence for the past 2 days. We went out for 'dinner' like we had the past week, except...it wasn't dinner at all. We ended up back in the empty field, just you and me, the car, and a heated passion that rose between us. I never meant for it to go that far, I had wanted to wait, wait until marriage to give you that small gift of pain and blood. But even though I told you not to, I begged you to stop, you lost control and went in too far, and in a matter of seconds I was no longer the saintly little girl of 17. You stopped immediately after I broke under your weight, you saw me in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. But alas, I had sinned, I had tarnished myself under the eyes of the holy Father. I went through a pregnancy scare, for months on end I couldn't sleep thinking of what I had done. And even though I forgave you with every ounce of love I had. But...I still feel a twinge now and then, of sorrow, of misery, of regret, of guilt. Of knowing that I failed myself, the Lord, my parents, and that I lost every bit of dignity I had. I've forgiven you, but forgiving myself will be a life long punishment.