#Memories - Chapter 11: Growing Wings

I’ve always believed that life is a journey that, although lonely at times, becomes filled with light when we meet those 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 turn into something quite the opposite. 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 only meant to walk together for a season. They were good for a while, I won’t deny it, but in the end they faded away, leaving behind a quiet void. That absence, however, taught me how to recognize the value of true 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. How often did we believe that the person who laughed with us and seemed present through good and bad times would also remain when things grew difficult? And yet, when the weight became heavier, they were the first to step away.

Reality reveals itself slowly, making it clear that friendship is a continuous challenge. It tests us, stretches us, and eventually forces us to choose: do we take the long road together, or do we part ways? Perhaps some friendships do have an expiration date. I don’t really know.

I remember a past friend with whom I spent endless hours talking about everything. She felt like the perfect companion—kind, attentive, always willing to create memories together. When my life took a complicated turn, 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 firm when everything feels clouded.

Years passed, experiences accumulated, and we grew accustomed to listening to one another as if we were our own therapists. We shared stories, exchanged 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 other people entering our lives. Maybe it was lies. Maybe the expiration date finally arrived. Or maybe 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 nothing when they are not supported by action.

Because in the end, the people who truly stay are the ones who show you that while words can be sweet and promises plentiful, what truly matters is consistency. True friendship is not built on expectations, but on genuine gestures—those 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 aren’t the ones who write every day or are always physically present. What matters is that when the road becomes uncertain, when shadows grow longer, they are there—offering a hand, a word, or even a hug, even if it’s online.

I’ve learned that there is something deeply beautiful about trusting people who show up as they truly are from the very beginning—without masks, without pretenses, with honesty. These people are rare, but they do exist. They are the ones worth holding onto. Quietly and consistently, they remind you that even on the grayest days, friendship is a form of love that asks for nothing in return—only that you stay. With them, you find refuge. You find space to be yourself without filters or ornaments. You feel it in the way they listen, the way they look at you, the way they remind you that you are not alone. And with them, you grow wings you didn’t know you had.

Of course, wounds exist. Not all friendships are simple or pure, and disappointment—though inevitable—is 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. And even when time and circumstances push us apart, they remain present in some way, because the roots we planted together are strong. There will always be room in the heart for those who truly understood us.

In the end, friendship is not measured by numbers or frequency of contact. It is measured by depth—by shared moments, by honest words, by 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 if distance now separates us, and even for those who left—because you 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.