I've known Alli for as long as I've known how to breathe.
She was only a year older than me, but from the very start, she felt like my missing piece- my person. She had an older brother, a younger brother too. We were all born in Germany, but life had its way of tearing pages out of the book too early. When they moved to the UK, I was left behind. Alone.
We lost contact, like most kids do when the distance gets bigger than their memories. But fate, in all its gentle kindness, brought us back together once my family moved too.
And it was like nothing had ever changed. There was no need for awkward reintroductions. No 'so what have you been up to all these years?' It wasn't like meeting someone new. It felt like coming home. Like I had just returned from a really long holiday and picked up exactly where we left off.
There was something bigger than blood between us- something infinite. We were not only bound by blood but also tears.
'If you cry, I'll cry too'
She would say every time she sees my eyes sparkle with tears. If there's a red string said to connect lovers, then ours was one spun tightly by sisterhood. The kind that wraps around your heart and reminds you that you are never truly alone in this world. Not when you have someone like her.
Alli was the strongest woman I knew. Fiercely independent. Unshakeable on the outside. She had this look about her- sharp, commanding- like she didn't need anyone. But if you got to know her... really know her... you'd see the softness. The warmth. The fire she had for people she loved. And I was one of them. That alone gave me a kind of courage I didn't know I had.
'You're one of us'
she would always say, whenever I was left doubting where I stood.
Now tell me- how many people in this world actually make you feel like you belong?
In this day and age, where family can sometimes feel like strangers, where people are just waiting to tear each other down out of jealousy- here was someone who chose me. Time and time again.
Since we were kids, we were joined at the hip. Wherever she went, I followed. Wherever I went, she followed. And tagging along always, like our shadow, was her little brother.
Weekends were sacred. If it was spent at hers, it meant sneaking around her house finding loose coins and me bringing the ones I found at mine, just so we could ambush the ice cream van outside and buy whatever our little hands could afford. If it was at mine, it meant switching off the main power in the house, hiding behind my dad like we had no clue what happened, giggling while he pretended no to know the truth.
We were mischievous. We were loud. We were messy and chaotic. But above all, we were happy.
Once, I was supposed to go home- and we didn't want that, so we stabbed the tyre of my dad's car just so I wouldn't have to leave. That's the kind of love we had. Reckless, innocent, unstoppable.
I remember learning how to ride a bike on one that was too big for me. I was terrified. But she climbed on without a second thought- fell, got up and kept riding. Watching her, something inside me shifted. If she could do it, so could I. That was always the pattern : her leading the way, and me finding my strength through her.
We played football so aggressively in the garden that one of our teeth came out, blood and all. Our mothers banned us from ever playing again. But the joy, the wild joy of those moments- it was worth every bruise.
And when things weren't so fun, when Navin scolded me or made me feel worthless, she would look at me and whisper in German under the breath- badmouthing him, making me laugh. Because he couldn't understand a word, and that was our superpower.
There was the time we painted her entire house, and it ended with a water fight. Her older brother sprayed water on me, I sprayed back, then her little brother got involved, and of course, she did too. We were soaked. The garden was chaos. But the only sound that filled that house was laughter-deep, full-bellied laughter.
And in that moment, I realised something.
They had never made me feel the void of not having siblings. They never once made me feel like an outsider. They were the glue that held me together when I felt like I was falling apart. Those tiny, silly, beautiful moments stitched my heart back up in ways no one else could.
Something unconditional.
And I knew, deep in my heart, that for them, I'd do anything. Even give my life.
Because I know what it's like to be alone.
I know what it's like to be turned away, to have no one.
And once you've known that kind of emptiness, you don't take love for granted.
You hold on for dear life.
That's why I'll never let them feel that way.
Not her.
Not her brothers.
Not even for a second.
Being close to someone means facing life together- not just the happy moments, but the difficult ones too. It's about standing in the storm with them.
Through fights, pain, silence and breakdowns.
It's being there when they fall apart.
It's not walking away when they get hard to love.
It's not turning your back when they make mistakes.
And when things get hard, you don't run.
You apologise.
You try again.
You stay.
It's saying- I choose you. Again and again.
So, Alli, if I've ever hurt you- whether intentionally or unintentionally, whether in anger or confusion- I am truly sorry. I was young, immature, still figuring out who I was in a world that constantly tried to change me. I was searching for a light. A light that you were ready to give.
I promise you- whatever happens, no matter the problem, whether it comes from us or from someone else, I'll face it head-on.
I won't hide.
I won't push you away.
I won't let anyone come between us- not now, not ever.
You may not even realise how much you've done for me. But you built me up when life tried to knock me down. You filled the empty spaces with joy, with chaos, with light. You made me believe that family isn't just about who you've born to- it's about who stands with you when the world doesn't.
So thank you.
For everything.
For being my safe place.
For being the reason I still believe in love- the kind that saves you.
The kind that heals.
The kind that stays edged.
Forever.