I was two years old when we first met. He lived in the same building as I did, just a floor below. He was a year older than me and his sister was two years younger than him. Sometimes, the sibling jealousy led him to come down to our home. My grandmother didn’t have a grandson, so she showered him with love and he looked forward to spending time with us.

It didn’t take long for him to become my best friend.

One day, almost suddenly, his father asked him to go to Dubai to continue his education abroad. He belonged to a scandalous family, so no one asked too many questions. I lost my best friend in the blink of an eye.

He stayed there for two years. Lack of parental attention, among other things, had turned him into one typical ‘bad boy’ – depression, drugs, anger issues and underage drinking, these were but a few of his vices that his mother occasionally shared with us. My family was surprised, he was one of the sweetest and calmest boys we knew. But I was holding on to a secret for two years- at that time though, it never crossed my mind that this could have been a reason: that I could have been the reason.

The day he went to Dubai, he left me a letter. “I was too shy to tell you. But I think I love you. :)” – Yes, smiley face included. I thought it was adorable, I was mad at him for telling me this so late, however, I never felt anything more for him. He’s been a brother to me but I couldn’t tell him this. And I didn’t.

He sent me letters and emails, I tried to keep the conversation as friendly as I possibly could, so he would never get the wrong impression from my side. At some point, he gave up. We lost touch.

It wasn’t soon after that his sister came back to Mumbai. Let’s call her A. She immediately replaced him as my everyday buddy. I never knew that even then, he still had feelings for me. His behavior only got worse. And just like that, I found out, that he has a girlfriend. I’m not sure what he thought my reaction would be, but he didn’t get what he wanted from me and got angry at my ‘lack of reaction’. We lost touch again.

Three months later, he called me and we spoke for a while. He ended the call saying, “I still love you.” I didn’t make a big deal out of it, maybe he said this as a joke. He does have a girlfriend after all.

A few years passed by, he kept coming and going. I made it a point to see him every time he was in town. I would get to know of his travel plans from him, or his sister. Even though at times his feelings were evident, they were never mutual. No one can or should blame me for this.

Anyway, time moved on and so did my life. I got into a relationship with a guy from my school. Let’s call him R. And it wasn’t too long before I came running home to A to tell her about my first kiss with R.

Sure enough, her brother overheard our conversation. He got angry. Left for Dubai with a frown. I was done with this behavior now, frankly, it was getting a little annoying.

Months later, R and I broke up. Again, I ran to A. I cried about it, but soon, was done with R and his memories. In January, 2016, R (now an ex) began sending me hate emails. It hurt a lot and brought up all those painful memories, I rushed to A’s house again, but this time on my way here, I saw her brother.

He was the same protective best friend I’d had growing up and I rushed into his arms crying. I told him about the break-up, the hate mails, everything. He held me as I cried and that’s when I noticed that he began touching me inappropriately. He tried to kiss my cheek and held me, too tight. This scared me. I nudged him away, as calmly as I could and rushed back to my place.

Three days passed and I didn’t talk to him. I told another friend of mine, let’s call him Y, about the incident that had happened. He was fuming. He wanted his number, which of course I didn’t share.

I tried ignoring the whole incident but it started getting worse. I knew I had to talk to my friend about him again. This time, I gave him his Instagram handle. My friend tried to knock some sense into him- it seemed to have worked, for a while. By now, I started dating Y.

It’d been only a week into our relationship when disaster struck. Again. I had gone to spend some time with A, of course her brother had to be there. He was already angry about something. I tried to avoid him and walked right past him but he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a deserted area of our large building.

What followed next, was the most terrifying experience of my life. His lips were constantly on mine. His hands in places I wish they’d never be. He was too strong on me. I tried to kick him, but his grip on me, my body was too tight. I was too scared to think. What he was doing, it made no sense to me. I tried to scream but everything inside me was frozen. He was supposed to be my best friend. He turned his face away for a second to bite my neck and without thinking, I reached out and pinched the side of his stomach.

I ran for my life. It took me a while to open up to Y about this experience. He said he would do anything to hurt this guy. I, on the other hand, was desperately trying to forget this incident, so kept asking Y to leave it. At one point, my ex-best-friend and molester came and apologized to me. But absolutely nothing can make me forgive him.

A while after, Y and I broke up: things were difficult for me now and being in a relationship was not what I wanted or needed to heal. 

So,

Dear A******,

I’m also going to send this to you personally, but the world should know what you did to me and how I’m going to fix myself after You. I hate you.

You’re the worst friend any girl can ask for. You betrayed what should have been called trust. Your touch is never welcome and neither is your sight.

I hate you and for every other girl’s sake, I hope you change and understand that it’s not a girl’s fault for not seeing you the way you want them to.

Accept it.

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