Who am I to judge you on your experiences?
You say that I am supposed to.
But why is that?
Because you have slept with many women?
Or perhaps because you have used them as well?
Maybe it’s because you cannot remember all of their names?
Or because you cannot remember last night.
Either one, doesn’t really matter.
Asking me to judge you is like asking a kangaroo to write a love song.
You just don’t do it.
I am not your savior.
You pray. Ask Him.
I am not your mother.
I am sure you won’t tell her any of this.
She would probably throw a chastity belt on you..
although she would be much too late.
I am not a perfect person.
There are many things I wish I didn’t do.
Now that my Hoobastank moment is over, I have my own issues.
I am worrying about who is judging me.
Because of this, I don’t have time, nor the need to judge you.
It’s just you. Me. and our sins.