Why do you hate friendships between different souls?

Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

They asked me once,

“Why do you hate friendships between different souls?” and called it immaturity before hearing the storms behind my silence.

I did not hate without reason. I simply grew tired of being useful only when needed, like a candle touched only when darkness arrives.

I was the kind of person who gave without measuring, until my hands learned exhaustion and my heart learned how empty kindness can become.

They spoke warmly in front of me, yet turned my name into ash the moment I disappeared. They mistook care for affection, kindness for desire, as if friendship between two people must always carry hidden hunger.

And when I failed once, they held my mistakes like scripture, forgetting every good thing I ever tried to become.

So I stepped away.

Not because I hated them, but because fear slowly built a home inside my chest. I feared every new face would carry the same ending.

Count the people I let close now, and one hand is already enough.

Yet time has strange ways of reopening locked doors.

Because among the noise, I found a few souls who stayed gently, who feared losing me too, who proved that sincerity still breathes somewhere in this world.

And after years of closing every window in my heart, I finally understood:

friendship was never meant to be divided by gender, only by truth and intention.

So maybe I do not regret becoming cautious.

Because now, with only a few beside me, I know these hands are finally holding the right people.