She sat in my office, her chair facing mine, her head in her hands, weeping uncontrollably. Her body was shaking with her sobs as she confessed her many foolish choices. She had traveled the drug and party route; she had given herself to more men than she could remember; she had committed acts that she now found reprehensible. She had played the whore and aborted the consequences - more than once. Now, full of shame and guilt, she was drowning in her own sorrow, regret and humiliation. O, how she wished she had never . . . but, she had. And it could not be undone. Read the rest of this entry »