You should be in jail. You deserve to be in jail. If you hadn't traumatized me to the point of being unable to speak for several days, maybe I would have told. Maybe I would have taken you to court and got you convicted and sent you to jail. Maybe then you'd understand that what you did was wrong; maybe you'd finally understand the impact what you did had on me.

Do you even remember it? I bet you don't. You were drunk off your ass. You called me and I could barely understand you, so much so that it took about 15 minutes for me to finally understand where you were. I drove to get you, despite the fact that it was 2 AM and I had to wake up at 4 AM for work. Why, you ask?

Because I'm a good person. But you, sir, you are NOT.

Was that your intention from the very beginning? Get her to pick me up so I can get some action? Or was it just something that popped into your head when you realized you were naked.

I took off your clothes because you'd thrown up on them. I knew if I didn't clean you that you would wake up covered in your own vomit and have to try to clean yourself up with a killer hangover. I was being nice, I was a nursing student, so I'd done this a million times before. I could have left you covered in puke and made you suffer for what you done at that party. I could have got back in my car and drove back to my house and crawled into my bed and gotten the max amount of sleep possible before an early wake up and a long day. I could have avoided all the pain.

But I didn't.

I thought we were friends, Omid. Or at least acquaintances. You were my fiancé's best friend, so I figured that meant since we'd be in each other lives for a long time that we would at least be civil. And for a bit, we were. We weren't close, so I didn't know all your secrets and you didn't know all mine, but you didn't need to know about my past to know that it's wrong to do what you did.

Instead of going back to my safe, warm house, I brought you upstairs and threw you in the bathtub. I took off your nasty puke-covered clothes, rinses them off, and threw them in the washer. Then I started to bathe you, the same way I'd bathed patient after patient in the past. Now I'm not saying any of my other patients hadn't tried to make the ordeal sexual, but you were the only one who took it too far.

I know alcohol can make you much stronger, but did you know what you were doing when you leaped at me, held my hands above my head, attacked me with your body, ignored my cries of protest? Even someone as heavily drunk as you had to have understood that whatever was happening, I didn't like it.

So why didn't you stop?

Do you know what the worst part is, Omid? When I told my fiancé, your best friend, the person who had promised to protect me and trust me his whole life, he got pissed at ME. He told me I was a liar. He told me I was just jealous of you, Omid. He told me I needed to "quit making up stories", that I had a problem with wanting attention, that I was selfish and stupid. He told me you weren't going anywhere, Omid; he told me if anyone had to go, it would be ME.

Where was the ring on your finger, Omid? Where was the promise of a life together, the promise of protection?

You thought you'd gotten away with it. But then, you could never keep your mouth shut. I'm not sure what exactly you said, but Haz told me you made a comment about me and he just KNEW that I wasn't lying.

How did it feel when he beat you senseless, Omid? Did you finally realize what you had done? Did you feel guilty? Did you try to apologize? Did you think about apologizing to me? Did you think about leaving, about letting us be happy and safe without you?

No, I bet you didn't. Because after a few months of not talking and Harry's mother whining that she never saw her "second son" around anymore, my weak-ass fiancé FORGAVE YOU. He FORGAVE YOU for RAPING HIS FIANCÉE.

I hope whatever you are, you're suffering. I hope it eats you alive what you did. I hope that whenever you look in my ex-fiancé's eyes you remember what you did, remember the pain he caused you.

I hope one day you rot for what you did to me, Omid. You are by FAR the nastiest soul I have ever come in contact with.

FUCK YOU 🖕🏼