It shouldn't have come to this

It shouldn't have needed someone to die for me to realise it was wrong.
I'm a rational, moral human being. I could have worked it out for myself.
But I didn't. I let someone die.
Left him to die for the sake of my stupid obsession with the female form.
It took that death for me to realise my own stupidity.
But I kept going back.

It's been a rough couple of weeks since this slip. Since then I've had difficulty stringing together a couple of days without some kind of acting out. Maybe it's because I'm being harder on myself, it's easier to fall; maybe my addict is just getting more creative in sidestepping my own rules; more likely I'm just weak.
It took Good Friday to remind me of the consequences.
For every picture I download, every movie I watch, every woman I look twice at... the hammer strikes that nail.
About a quarter of the way through the Good Friday service I got my second wind; a sudden strength, not my own, the will to go back, purge the computer of any filth that remained, and start afresh.
Because the events of that day are down to me. I did it; I sent him to die.
And I do it again, every time I slip.

But Good Friday has reminded me.
It's not porn I live for.
Porn ain't my master.