Yes, you were abused as a child. By "him". And it's permanently damaged you, completely, utterly beyond repair, and you can never find joy, and you'll never be a sexual being. Except when you start saying that things are 'sexy', and how awesome the Rocky Horror Picture Show is, and how you'll be going there, and how excited you are. It's not like it has half-naked, indecent people strutting around, or that two of the main characters are tricked into having sex, which they enjoy. And the whole "Touch me" song. But, nah, you can handle that. But you can't handle the boys at school talking about your tits, and you cry every day because you remember "him". But, hey, you won't go into detail with me, someone who's told you he loves you, someone who shares all of his shit with you, and who has supported you before. Nah, you know I'd not approve with some things, and so you'd rather talk another of your friend. Whom you consider your "best friend", and you say that to my face. Because he "understands", and has admitted to being a paedo (But it's not the OTHER paedo you like), because he says he was abused, too, and thus you've something to talk about. Where he, you admitt, talks about his body in detail you admitt to is excessively detailed. And so, you talk about your own body to him, in the same detail. But, nah, you're not indecent at all. But, hey, that's alright. I mean, it's not like you admitt you'd rather talk to him than me. Oh, you have? You've told me, while we're speaking, the only reason you're staying up, is so you can talk to him? MY, that's certainly pleasant. Hey, I understand there are things I don't "get". But, instead of trying to let me "get" them, or telling me why you won't try, you just say "forget it", and it only slips out whenever you've something you need to talk about. And when you DO talk about it, you completely fucking ignore what my advice, without having the respect to give arguments? Well fucking done. Fucking brilliant. And here's another thing. I admitt to you that I don't feel joy. At all. That the only reason I don't kill myself is because of apathy and fear of pain. But, you say it's not the worst thing, indicating that your experience is far worse. Hey, sure. Except you can be happy. You've shown happiness, excitement, and desire for something yet to come. You can LIVE. You may be damaged, even crippled, but not fucking ruined. But, nah, because you have a clear, direct cause, someone to blame for everything, you're so much worse off. Unless, of course, you're lying/faking when I see you happy, be it by my own hands or others. In that case, why fucking bother? Why bother making me think you're happy? Because I don't know you can be miserable? Because I'd judge you? And then, when you ARE miserable, you won't even fucking tell me what's wrong, but instead you talk to the other fucker? The one who, I repeat, ADMITS TO BEING A PAEDO? And, fuck, if you know that, it means you've spoken of your, or at least his, sexual tastes. So much for finding any and all sexual things disgusting. I'd tell you to fuck off, and then cut you out of my mind, but I know I'd miss you too fucking much to be able to handle that for any amount of time. And now, I'm the bad guy, right? Because I DARED to voice my anger at you, and because I don't believe that your life is over because you were abused when you were younger, that I DARE claim that not being able to experience joy, something pretty much every single fucker can experience, and does experience, and takes for granted like the ungrateful inferiour little shits they are, could be worse than being damaged in such a way. I mean, it's not like you can get support and sympathy for your plight, right? And that I, even during the rare times I do get support, don't trust the supporters to be genuine, even experiencing nothing but anger, jealousy, and bitterness when they try, right? Yeah, no, fuck you.