Men, all men, were always trying to get hold of me, you know.
The fathers, if they got me alone, would try to kiss and fondle me. I hated it.
I'm terrified of men these days. If someone asked me out now, I don't know what I'd say, how I'd react. But I couldn't go through with it, not at all. I suppose I've been terrified of them all along.
I like to think that people live on in other people's memories.
I enjoyed sex and indulged in it when I fancied the men.
I have survived and possibly I should not hope for more than that.