You saw me with that girl at the bar and gave me an angry look for days.

You had to spring it on me on christmas morning, didn't you?

What made you think I wanted it when I said no? Didn't I make myself clear enough for you?

I could've up and walk away from you, but you were my friend, and I thought you saw me as one too.

Just because a person wants sex from you, doesn't mean they respect you, right, like you disrespected me?

I know you don't care that I can't sleep at night unless I leave the tv on to fall asleep to.

I feel like I'm suppose to apologise to Iranians because of what you've done' to me, and my irrational discomfort that arises.

Nobody knows the details, but as long as you tell them that I liked it, then they can lead guiltless lives: To say I liked/consented it/wanted it, sounds better than you actually betraying a friend without apology, then everyone gets mad at me just because I'm the damaged one who's being a pain in the ass.

Thanks for ruining 1997 for me when it was going so well.

Thank you for giving me an emotional scar that'll never heal. Thanks for teaching me that to remember someone the most is by how they treat you, and you're deeply imbedded.

Thanks for taking off the rose-colored glasses I saw you with when I thought you were a decent person. Now, to convince the others that think I'm ruining your good name.

Thanks for telling the detective that it was consentual, proving that you're a liar.

All I can say is what goes around, comes around, and it had better come soon. You're the luckiest man I knew, because you walk away a decent friend to the rest, while I'm considered vengeful to the same ones who don't understand my rage.

Good bye, and thanks for the nightmare.