Last summer I had a fight with my best friend, Bianca. She had made another girlfriend, and it seemed like she didn’t have time for me anymore. I still remember the feeling of crying uncontrollably because I felt I was losing her, but I still had some hope in the love we had for each other.
Bianca was in Bucharest at the time. She called me and heard the tremble in my voice. She told me to calm down and that she would be back soon, but I kept asking her if we were still going to be friends and if we would still talk and be like before. She replied that we would talk when we met. Until she arrived, I paced the courtyard of Olari Church. From the gate, I could see the house where she lived. We would often meet at the church and sit on the stone wall, laughing and discussing the day’s happenings.
It seemed unthinkable not to be friends with Bianca. She had shown me how to trust the world, how to understand the people around me, and how to keep my boundaries in mind. Not long after, Bianca showed up. She had left Bucharest as quickly as she could, even though she was at lunch with her mother. She took me in her arms and told me that nothing was going to come between us.
We watched the sunset from the church wall and made a promise to each other that we would never give up this friendship.