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Kindle Notes & Highlights
I really was happy when I seemed happy. I am incapable of lying about my feelings,
Being in love was like that to me, a shield, a higher purpose, a promise to something outside of yourself.
It was sort of amazing seeing men who weren’t particularly attractive but who believed, more or less correctly, that they could have and do whatever they wanted.
Being young and beautiful felt like a lot sometimes, felt like it translated to real-world power, but money shat all over it every time.
The act of unwanted sex was not what angered me most, but rather the tedious reminder that men can often do whatever they want and that some of them will.
but it felt very much like sex to me. From a purely physical point of view it didn’t even feel very different to some of the worse consensual sex I had had, those times where I had realised immediately that I would rather not continue, but did so
Getting apples and walking around was the point, just that, that was the whole point.
How impoverished my internal life had become, the scrabbling for a token of love from somebody who didn’t want to offer it.
How lucky I have been that so much of my pain is from fearing the loss of what I already have,
I would love to have one moment of want in my life when I am sure what I’m feeling is all my own and nothing to do with men,
Things like the creamy orange sky which was making my heart feel split and open and free