I’ve always believed that life is a journey that, although lonely at times, becomes filled with light when we meet people who without expecting anything in return, choose to walk beside us. It’s curious how, almost inexplicably, friends appear when we least expect them. Somewhere along the way, we find ourselves offering our time and trust to people who are willing to share our path—though sometimes not in the way we had hoped.

At certain points in my life, I allowed myself to be carried away by the illusion of people who promised loyalty and genuine friendship, only for those bonds to become something quite different. Those relationships were like reflections on water: beautiful at first, yet fragile and easily broken. Perhaps they were never truly what I needed, or perhaps we were simply meant to walk together for a season and for just a limited period of time.

That absence, however, taught me to recognize the value of genuine connections and to appreciate even more the people we sometimes take for granted. Sometimes life teaches us, too late, that we were waiting for something that was never meant to arrive. We believe that the person who laughed with us and stood beside us through good and bad times will remain when things become difficult. 

I remember a person with whom I spent endless hours talking about everything. She felt like the perfect companion... kind, attentive, always willing to create memories together. When sadness settled in and worries flooded my days, she was there. At that moment, I understood that true friendship is not only about celebrating sunny days, but about standing beside someone when everything feels clouded.

Years passed, experiences accumulated, and we became accustomed to listening to one another as if we were our own therapists. We shared stories, exchanged pieces of advice, and generously offered our time, thoughts, and care. But somewhere between those beautiful pages we wrote together, something broke. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was change. Maybe it was the people who entered our lives. Maybe it was lies, or perhaps we simply weren’t who we used to be. At first, it hurt deeply. Not only because of the indifference that followed, but because of the time and emotions we had invested. Accepting it was difficult, but it taught me something essential: empty words cannot sustain a true friendship. Promises mean little when they are not supported by action.

Because in the end, the people who truly stay are the ones who show you that what matters is not what they promise, but what they consistently do. True friendship is built through genuine gestures, the quiet moments when someone listens without judgment, supports you without conditions, and cares without needing to say it out loud. It doesn’t matter if they don’t write every day or are always physically present. What matters is knowing that when the road becomes uncertain and the shadows grow longer, they will be there.

There is something deeply beautiful about trusting people who show up as they truly are from the beginning - without masks, without pretenses, with honesty. These people are rare, but they do exist. They are the ones worth holding onto. With them, you find refuge and a space to be yourself without filters or ornaments. You feel it in the way they listen, the way they look at you, and the way they remind you that you are not alone. Of course, wounds exist. Not all friendships are simple or pure, and disappointment—though inevitable—can become a lesson in disguise. Still, I have never stopped believing in sincere people, in those capable of offering the best of themselves. They are the ones who help us grow.

In the end, friendship is not measured by numbers or frequency of contact. It is measured by depth, by shared moments, honest words, and the comfort of being together without needing anything more than presence. Above all, it is measured by trust: knowing that someone is willing to walk beside you, not only under clear skies, but also through the storms. And yes, we may fail at times. But honestly, who has ever been part of a relationship where failure was not part of the journey?

So today, I allow myself to feel grateful. Grateful for those who entered my life with pure intentions, for the friendships that remain even when distance separates us, and even for those who left—because they shared my time and my heart when we both chose to do so.

Now, at 34, I can say with certainty that there will always be space for those who genuinely deserve it. And to them, I offer not only my time, but my heart—to keep, to protect, and to care for.