We were not just friends. We were like two people who understood each other deeply. Kabir and I met in school. We were. A little different from the others. We liked being quiet. He was very smart. Teachers loved him. People thought he was great. I liked being around him. I learned how he talked, how he felt what scared him. Then I thought I was helping him. Maybe I was just trying to know him

Kabir had a lot of anxiety. Nobody else noticed it.. I did. I saw how his hands would shake before he had to talk in front of people. I saw how his breathing changed when he felt nervous. He told me his fears. That he was not good enough that he was pretending to be someone he was not. I would sit with him. Tell him everything would be okay. I would say, “You are stronger than this.”. He believed me.

Something changed inside me over time.

The more Kabir depended on me the more important I felt. I was the one who really understood him. I was the one who could make him feel better. His problems became my reason for being.. Slowly I started making his fears worse.

At first it was things. I would tell him that people were talking about him behind his back. Even if they were not. I would “accidentally” tell him that someone did not think he was talented. I would say, “I did not want to tell you this but I think you should know.” His anxiety got worse. He needed me more. I thought I was helping him.

Really I was making things worse.

Kabir stopped trusting his friends. He stopped going out. He thought about everything much.. Every time he got really upset he would come to me. And I would make him feel better. I felt important. I felt needed. His world got smaller. I was the one in the middle.

One night everything fell apart. Kabir called me crying. He said he did not know what was real anymore. If people really did not like him or if it was just in his head. He sounded like a kid. For a moment I felt bad. I could have told him the truth then. I could have said I was sorry.. I did not. I said, “You are not imagining it. I have seen it too.”

There was silence on the end of the phone.

A week later Kabir was, in the hospital. He had a breakdown. The doctors said he was very stressed and that it had affected his mind. His parents were very sad. They asked me if I knew what had happened. I said I did not know.

When I visited him he looked different. He was calm. Also far away. He held my hand. Said, “At least you are still here. You are the one I trust.” That hurt me deeply.

I did not hurt Kabirs career. I did not take his money. I did something I changed the way he thought. I used his trust against him. I made his fears worse.. The worst part is, I do not know if I did it because I was jealous or because I was scared of being alone.

People think that hurting someone is loud. That it involves arguments and yelling.. It is not. It is quiet. It is whispers. It is mean things that you say to someone.

Kabir still says I am his friend.

And every time he says it I wonder if I was ever really his friend. Or if I was someone who needed him to be sad so I could feel important.