There’s something about distance that transforms relationships. It brings us closer to some people while accelerating the drift with others. It shows how small the world is—how fast you can return home—yet reminds you that things will never be quite the same again. Distance is a natural test for the strength of bonds. If a friendship cannot survive it, one has to wonder about its integrity in the first place.

It wasn’t until I moved away and made my first trip back home that I truly understood the resilience of some connections. With my closest friends, nothing had changed. We shared the same jokes, had the same conversations, and laughed just as we always had. For a fleeting moment, it felt like I hadn’t moved 8,000 kilometers away just a few months earlier.

But distance also offers a different kind of bond—the ones you build while apart and then test when you return. At first, these relationships seem fragile compared to the ones forged over years. Yet, ironically, they often prove just as strong, sometimes even stronger. Meeting someone you connected with across miles is daunting but profoundly rewarding. It makes balancing the time differences, with all the long days and sleepless nights, worth it. It’s as if the distance collapses, bringing with it a new layer to the relationship. Still, the joy of meeting them is tempered by the heartbreak of leaving again. The thought of another six months apart weighs heavily, casting a shadow over the happiness of reunion. It’s bittersweet—a reminder of how something so perfect can be tinted with sadness.

In high school, I never truly grasped the meaning of Ed Sheeran’s song - Photograph. Now, every word resonates. “I’ll keep this love in a photograph” feels like my reality. I cherish the polaroids my friends and I took, preserving the memories until I can return and embrace them again.

Distance, I’ve come to realize, is a paradox—a beautiful tragedy. It strengthens what’s true and breaks what’s weak. It forces us to grow, both individually and with the people we hold dear. And maybe, that’s not such a bad thing. There’s something undeniably appealing about counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you can come back to the people who feel like home. This isn’t goodbye but a promise to do the same things we did this time in 6 months.