I have a couple of best friends, and I don't think I would live

In the grand tapestry of human experience, there is no greater force than the bonds of friendship. Yet, as Alexandra Chando wisely notes, “I have a couple of best friends, and I don't think I would live with them. It definitely... certain people can't live together, and I think that it could potentially put a lot of strain on the relationship or friendship.” This statement reveals a timeless truth about the nature of our relationships: closeness, though deeply cherished, can sometimes strain even the most solid bonds. Chando’s words speak to the delicate balance between the desire for intimacy and the need for personal space, a challenge that has existed since the earliest days of human society.

The ancients knew well the complexity of close relationships. Consider the bond between Achilles and Patroclus, whose deep friendship was both their strength and their vulnerability. Achilles, the great warrior, was inseparable from Patroclus, but the intensity of their relationship also became a source of great pain. The loss of Patroclus during the Trojan War devastated Achilles, a reminder that sometimes the bonds we forge, no matter how strong, can lead to deep personal turmoil when tested by circumstances. In the case of Chando’s reflection, the friendship that might flourish in one context—such as shared goals or experiences—may face strains when placed under the pressure of constant proximity.

This tension is echoed in the story of David and Saul, two figures bound not only by friendship but by rivalry. Saul, the king, at first admired David, even as they fought side by side in battle. Yet as David's fame grew, Saul's jealousy and insecurities put immense strain on their relationship. The close quarters of life in the royal court and the demands of power tested their connection to the breaking point. This ancient example mirrors Chando’s warning—friendships that thrive in one space can falter when tested by the pressures of shared living, especially when the balance between personal ambition and mutual respect becomes skewed.

Chando’s insight reveals that there are times when distance—physical or emotional—is necessary to preserve the purity of a friendship. Living together, no matter how much we love someone, can distort the natural flow of the relationship. Just as Achilles and Patroclus were driven by shared purpose but were ultimately torn apart by the forces of war, so too can our close relationships falter under the weight of constant interaction. The lesson here is not about avoiding deep connections, but recognizing that these connections, like all things, need the proper space to thrive.

Consider, too, the story of Aristotle and Alexander the Great. Though Aristotle mentored Alexander and they shared a profound relationship, the physical distance between them—Alexander's military campaigns and Aristotle’s philosophical pursuits—allowed their bond to remain intact. In the absence of daily proximity, their connection grew stronger, built on mutual respect rather than the mundane conflicts that proximity often breeds. Chando’s words remind us that sometimes, distance allows friendships to flourish in their truest form, untainted by the stress of day-to-day life.

The deeper lesson from Chando’s statement is about understanding the nature of our bonds. Friendship is a force of great power, but like all things of strength, it can be delicate. Just as a sword requires a careful balance of forging and tempering, so too do our relationships require the right balance of closeness and space. When we recognize this, we can navigate our friendships with wisdom, giving them the freedom to grow without stifling their potential.

In our own lives, we must approach friendship with the same understanding. Not all relationships are meant to withstand the pressures of living together. Some bonds are best nurtured through moments of separation, where each individual has the room to grow and explore their personal paths. Just as Achilles and Patroclus found their strength in their individual journeys, so too can we cultivate friendships that thrive in a space where each person’s autonomy is respected. Let us learn to recognize the need for distance when necessary and understand that the truest friendships are those that endure not through constant proximity, but through mutual respect and a deep understanding of each other’s needs.

Thus, let us take the wisdom of Chando and the ancients to heart. Friendship is a beautiful force, but like all things of great power, it must be managed with care. Let us cherish our relationships by respecting their boundaries, recognizing that sometimes, a little space is the greatest gift we can give to those we love. In doing so, we preserve the purity of these bonds, allowing them to endure and flourish, growing stronger with time and distance.