A common—very common—but perhaps the most cherished feeling in the human heart is friendship.
Human beings, as we often hear, are social animals. And in that very nature, friendship finds its space. It's not always in the grand gestures of loyalty or sacrifice; sometimes, even a passing smile to a stranger holds the quiet warmth of friendship. That smile says: I see you. I connect with you, if only for a moment.
As I’ve expressed in my earlier reflections, friendship and love are often confused. Love is a feeling many hearts struggle to define, and perhaps friendship is just another shade of it. After all, what makes us smile at someone else, care for them, or remember them fondly if not the gentle love we carry within us—for humanity, for connection, for being seen and accepted?
In my perspective:
“Friendship rules our mind, and love, our heart.”
When someone begins to influence our hearts more than our minds, when they make us act without second thoughts or self-doubt, that's when love sets in. But society has a way of labeling feelings: if it's for someone of the same sex, we call it friendship; if it's for the opposite sex, we call it love. And just like that, we box emotions that are far more fluid than we admit.
I, like many, once had a "best friend"—a person I compared everyone else to. None could match up. That bond became my yardstick for all other friendships, and unknowingly, I closed doors to new connections. But then life happened. Distance crept in. Schedules changed. We drifted apart. And in that silence, I felt lost. My days turned blank, my focus shattered. I couldn’t make decisions. That emptiness was my teacher.
In that moment, my sister’s words lit a lamp inside me:
“Every individual can have many best friends. It’s not about personality but about situations. Some are fun to spend time with, others good to talk to, some hold your secrets, and some simply rely on you. Never compare them. They’re all your best friends in their own way.”
She was right. This truth isn’t just mine—it’s universal. The day we understand this, we understand life better. Because no matter how deeply connected we are, life pulls us in different directions. And one day or another, we all must part—silently, respectfully—to live our own stories.
But let’s face something we often shy away from:
Friendship is, in many ways, selfish.
Think about it. We’re friends with someone because they’re close to us, they depend on us, they listen to us, we confide in them. It's rarely about how good they are to others. If someone is just as warm with someone else, we might feel jealous or distant. At its core, friendship often reflects our needs, our feelings, our comfort zones.
Yet, in its most beautiful form, friendship still overflows in our minds. Years may pass. We may move on, grow up, or grow apart. But the moment we hear a familiar voice or stumble upon an old memory, it’s not just nostalgia that returns—it’s friendship, raw and unfiltered. It’s not tears of sorrow but a smile soaked in memories.
Because that’s the magic of friendship—it leaves a mark without asking permission. Selfish or not, it makes life more meaningful.
So, is friendship selfish?
Maybe.
But if it is, it’s the most beautiful kind of selfishness we’ll ever know.
