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Because I could.
Because everybody told me You can’t –
So I was like, Fuck you. Hold my beer.
But the thing that infuriated me the most was knowing how I’d be judged if people knew what I was doing.
A guy sleeps with 20 women by the time he’s 21, he’s a fuckin’ stud.
A woman does it, and she’s a slut, a whore, a – whatever horrible name you want to call her.
It was like the system was designed by all those fucking mafia assholes I listened to from the stairwell when I was nine.
They could do whatever they wanted… lie, cheat, insult women, abuse them…
And nobody would ever call them on their bullshit. Not even my grandmother.
And they would badmouth the women they were sleeping with.
The women who gave their bodies to these men –
In some cases, who gave their hearts to them –
Those mafia douchebags would just shit all over them behind their backs and laugh about it.
To be honest, I kind of hated men.
And it’s a special kind of hell to be attracted to something you hate.
Even worse, to be attracted to something that could kill you.
So when Massimo called me a slut…
I wanted to kill him.
In that second, he was like every other mafioso scumbag I’d overheard in the stairwell.
I’d started to think Massimo might be different –
But he wasn’t.
He was judge-y –
So quick to label me –
And a coward.
I knew he wanted me.
He just wouldn’t act on it because he was scared shitless of Nona – just like all the rest.
But he sure as hell felt comfortable telling me what he thought of me.
He’d judge me all day long.
Put me down with insults…
Just like all the fuckin’ mafiosos did with every woman in their lives.
