I needed to talk. I needed to tell her how I felt before she could spill the words that I knew she wanted to say as badly as I did. Before she could utter her true feelings that she had bottled up. Feelings that I had been too distracted to notice, much like she clearly had. We had let ourselves and our judgments fog the glass and now it was being wiped clean. There was something cathartic about it and I welcomed the feeling.
"My whole life. My whole entire life. Everyone has wanted me and seen me as some trophy to be prized and won. I've been stalked, hunted, chased, and assaulted. Stylists have put their hands further down my pants than need be to tuck in shirts for me. I have been told to get myself hard to look bigger in underwear shoots and do you think they let me go do that in priv
