Sometimes It's All About The Money

After seven years as a social worker I lost the feeling. I was tired of being poor, working around poor people, working with false enthusiasm. I changed jobs out of government to become a counselor for the Cancer center, helping families dealing with the emotional and financial drain. It only served to deepen my misery. That's the state I was in when my sister cheated and lost her husband. I wasn't able to help.

So I'm asking for forgiveness. I agreed to marry a man who had been after me, twenty years older, with money. To buy me. Sex isn't my thing. To me it's a dental appointment. But sex is his thing, the more the merrier. It's a habit.

I needed right then enough money to help my sister, enough to fight her husband. To get him to give me money I agreed to one night in Bangkok. Pretty girls, and pretty boy girls. He said 'participate'. I wore the outfit, fit for a Bangkok whore. To participate with a girl, to watch him have a fun time with the ladyboys. He ended with the grand finale, between my legs on video.

I have the money, more than enough to help my sister. I don't participate, I don't watch. I mind my own business. From time to time I go to my husband. He's happy to see me. Happy to have me. Then I go spend time with my sister.