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“I remember him saying, in the dark, cramped stockroom with my back against a wooden crate, "You have this power over me." He'd convinced himself that his wanting me was my fault. And I believed him. Look what I do to these poor boys, I thought. And yet also, Here is my value, my power.” — Taylor Jenkins Reid
I remember him saying, in the dark, cramped stockroom with my back against a wooden crate, "You have this power over me."
He'd convinced himself that his wanting me was my fault.
And I believed him.
Look what I do to these poor boys, I thought. And yet also, Here is my value, my power.