When we were together, he'd tell me what he wanted to do to me. He wasn't asking permission. I was not an unwilling participant. I was not a willing participant. I felt nothing one way or the other. I wanted him to love me. I wanted to make him happy…. The more I gave, the more he took. At school, he continued to look right through me. I was dying but I was happy.
( Roxane Gay )
[ Bad Feminist ]
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