Chapter 1
The story begins with my first love — or maybe with my friend who understands me better than anyone and accepts me as I am. But it’s not certain whether he was truly that understanding or if he only pretended to be, because I kept getting hurt day by day. We were good friends, but after one mistake — or maybe because I confessed my love that day — everything changed and I became a lonely woman in this whole world.
This isn’t everything about my life; you should know I have a lot of friends. I even have one so-called “best friend” who had nothing to do with my story — they have their own. So let’s start with my confession and the letter I wrote to that guy. When I begin the story, the real names and identities will be changed.
This letter is not the first one I ever wrote to you. The story really began on January 24, 2024. That night we talked on a video call the whole time — we stayed up until 4 a.m., then finally shut our phones and fell silent. In that quiet moment I confessed my feelings to you. And then… you rejected me.
It felt like I had broken everything. I went to my bed and tried to sleep. The next day I went to college and pretended nothing had happened, but after that night everything changed. I had no idea what would come next — the ending of our friendship, what would happen to “us,” to my friend circle, to the small safe world I’d built around you.
the letter start with this,
Hey,
Maybe our meeting happened because of Aman, but it was your behaviour, your innocence, and the way you made me feel that drew me in. You would get hurt by the smallest things and take the blame on yourself; you carved a quiet corner in my life. Even if we didn’t spend a lot of time together, when you chose to trust me and come to me, that trust gave me peace.
Even now, though there are many people around me I wouldn’t call true friends, I still wait for you. I remember us sitting under the temple — you grew shy and embarrassed, then drifted away. I remember your sadness, you carrying your little world with you, sometimes staying close to me, sometimes leaving. I remember everything.
We had so little time together, but we made so many memories: my last birthday when you arrived late and then shyly gave me a gift; when i called you Rani andyou blushed; your laughter — how I loved your laughter. I remember our long conversations about everything, teasing Rohit with a fake proposal, and all the silly jokes. I’ve accepted that I’m not always the perfect friend. It’s not that I don’t try — sometimes I simply don’t know how to be. I’m sorry, buddy. I liked you — deeply, purely — as a friend. Above all, I always wanted you to be happy.
I remember the day you were so angry and upset, and later you tried to look okay and be with Rohit. I remember taking you on our last drive, you dropping me at the station, you getting drenched and me worrying you might fall sick. I told you I liked you, but I don’t even know what love fully means — I had never felt this way before. I never wanted my feelings to hurt you.
I know your life holds many problems and you often carry the weight of them alone. You push people away and hide your pain. I can’t do that — I can’t silently accept some things. I always want to stand by you, through whatever life throws at us. I want your happiness, whether you are with me or far away. Yes, it will hurt for a while, but life doesn’t always give us what we want; sometimes we must learn to put ourselves first.
I’m glad you have someone now — someone you can go to and feel lighter after you share your problems. That’s what friends do for each other. Maybe I am not the one who calms you. I cry, I fight, I’m a little selfish and possessive — but I am your friend, and I will stay, no matter what. I promise to remain your friend.
I know I overreact sometimes; Aman tells me plainly and you stay quiet so I won’t feel bad. You are kind. I want someone with whom I can laugh and cry and share everything — someone who doesn’t have to think two or three times before speaking. I want to be that comfort for someone, the person they can come to even when everyone else is gone — someone who listens even when it hurts.
You understood me first; but perhaps I am not right for you. I learned a part of your life recently — a part I learned on my birthday this year — and that changed things for me. The best gift I received this year(2024) was your time: you listened and you were there. That meant more than any present. I was a little hurt, not because I stopped loving you as a friend, but because I wished I could be the one you would say to, “I’m really upset today.” I never wanted to be the cause of any trouble in your life.
So sometimes I made distance. Even one message from you can light up my face, yet I won’t trouble someone else for my own happiness. You were the first person for whom I felt this way, and maybe I won’t give that place to anyone else unless my parents choose someone for me someday. I have no expectations, but I do feel like a burden sometimes. I don’t always understand you, and maybe you find me difficult to handle.
For me, you exist — but for you, there may be someone else. Still, I want to remain your friend forever; I promise that. What I felt for you was unique and will not be repeated. Thank you for everything you did. I remember the small moment you noticed your hoodie(his hoodie i want as a gift when i did not proposed to himand he remembered it..) and how you said it would make me completely warm — that tiny care felt like a gift. In that moment I felt close to you again.
Sometimes I couldn’t tell whether I was angry with you or angry at myself. When people start trusting me, I fear they’ll point out my faults or hide things from me. I want you to show your pain and scars. Everyone handles things differently, but I am with you in every moment — I wish you could understand that.
When you are sad, it hurts me. I can tell from your words. I become quiet and keep my thoughts to myself, and perhaps I fail to listen. I’m short-tempered — why is that? Why do I fall apart at the thought of being left? If your happiness truly lies elsewhere, maybe it is kinder for me to let you go.
Tonight I watched, for a long time, the reel I had sent you on Instagram. You were online late — around 11:30 p.m. — and then you went offline. Little things like that stay with me. So many things between us are unsaid. I wish I could change even one tiny part of myself to ease the pain, but I can’t change who I am overnight.
Maybe I won’t pass every exam. Maybe I’ll fail at some things. Maybe I won’t be “useful” in everyone’s eyes. But trying matters — trying gives life meaning. I know little things trouble you deeply and you try to handle them alone. You are no less than anyone else. I know who I am, and I am learning who I should be.
Do what gives you happiness. Don’t live by comparison. I want to be with you through failures and successes — from the bottom to the top — and stay until the end. Always. Even if I’m imperfect, I want to stay.
From here, I choose a path forward.
First, I will give you the space you need. I understand that sometimes you find relief in others, and that is okay. What truly matters to me is your peace. I will work on not burdening you with my insecurity. I will listen more and speak less. I will try to temper my reactions so I don’t push you away when you need me.
Second, I will keep my promise: I will remain your friend. That doesn’t mean I’ll hide my feelings forever, but it means I’ll respect your life and your choices. If being close to you means being quiet and steady, I will learn that steadiness. If honesty sometimes hurts, I’ll learn to be gentle.
Third, I will take care of myself. I owe myself patience and kindness. I will stop measuring my worth only by how much someone else needs me. I will work on my studies, my patience, and my confidence. I will try — because trying matters. Even if I fail at some things, my attempts give me dignity.
Finally, selfishly and simply, I hope that if you ever become ready to talk honestly again, you’ll know I am here. Not with demands or expectations, but with a steady shoulder and an open ear. If your happiness is elsewhere, I will learn to smile for you from a distance. If someday your heart needs the honesty and warmth we once shared, I will answer.
Thank you for the shy gifts, the drives, the jokes, the hoodie that felt like a quiet promise. Thank you for understanding me first, even when I didn’t understand myself. Thank you for teaching me patience and for the ache that helped me grow.
With all the messy, complicated love that began as friendship —
Your friend, always.
