Confession

A Love and Fate – My Story

Wine has a perfect color—if it spills on clothes, it never truly comes out. She was like that wine. Deep, intense, and unforgettable. She was going through a lot, unaware of the people around her. And yet, she gave me the chance to be her friend.

We kept our friendship a secret. I was afraid of what my friends would think if they knew how close we were. I didn’t want to be judged, and in doing so, I let her suffer. I said things I shouldn’t have, pretended to be someone I wasn’t, and made it seem like she didn’t deserve me. I knew it was wrong—I knew it could hurt her reputation—but I still did it. I wanted to be the smart one, and I made her feel dumb.

She never held back her feelings. Slowly, she realized what I was doing, and that’s when she started complaining. That’s when we started fighting. She knew I had a crush on another girl, and I didn’t hide it. Instead, I made it clear to everyone what we were—or rather, what we weren’t.

Time passed, and she continued to care for me. I kept hurting her, intentionally or unintentionally. She cried for me, and I let her. I was stupid—I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway. For what? I still don’t know.

Every day, she brought lunch for me to the office. No one knew who my dabbewali was. I cared too much about my reputation, and in doing so, I kept breaking her. I always knew she loved me, and I knew I could never love her back. And yet, I let her suffer. I used her kindness, her patience, her love. I was cruel—cruel in a way that no one but she and I would ever understand.

She helped me through my breakup, helped me make sense of things when I was lost. I remember telling her, "I know you love me, but I just can't love you back. And that's the worst thing I'll ever do." She watched me cry over someone else. She watched me beg for someone who didn’t care about me. And yet, she stayed. She took care of me, held me together when I was falling apart.

She had an unbreakable spirit. She gave her all to make sure I survived. The way she loved—it wasn’t something just anyone could do.

And now, if she’s not with me, I know she must be happy. Because the truth is, I never made her feel special, appreciated, or beautiful. I treated her as I pleased, like a ruler controlling his kingdom. I forced her to do what I wanted. Only a cruel person could do that.

I wish I could apologize for every single moment she suffered because of me. And yet, the most heartbreaking part? She would still forgive me.