Love. It’s beautiful, confounding, and layered—woven into every form of human connection. Not merely the romantic kind, but the bonds that shape our lives: friendship, partnership, siblinghood, mentorship.
We are, in many ways, a summation of our experiences, the people we encounter, and the company we choose to keep. The belief that one can rise above their circumstances is often rooted in exposure—exposure to better stories, higher standards, and lives lived with intention.
I’ve come to accept a difficult truth: friendship breakups often cut deeper than romantic ones. The pain of detaching from someone you once considered family—someone who held your secrets, witnessed your growth, and shared your sacred spaces—is a grief that lingers. It’s not just the absence of their presence, but the conscious effort to unlearn the instinct to care, to love them from a distance, and to silence the ache of what once was.