In a small neighborhood inhabited by simplicity, I, Ilara, and Zacharias were childhood friends. We were inseparable, but he always bothered me for no apparent reason. He would hide his toys, comment on my hair, and find a thousand ways to annoy me. I didn't understand then that he loved me, and that those quarrels were just his innocent attempts to get closer to me.

Years passed, and we grew older. One day, I was surprised that he left without saying goodbye, leaving a short note in which he wrote: "Excuse me, I couldn't stay." I felt let down, and decided to turn the page on him. How could someone I considered the closest person suddenly disappear? I completely stopped talking to him, and began to live my life as if he didn't exist.

Years later, while I was on my way to the library, I saw him in front of me. He looked different, more mature, but his eyes were the same: shining with a longing that had not lost its luster. He quickly approached me and said:

"Ilara! I missed you. How are you?"

I looked at him coldly and said, "Excuse me, do I know you?"

He froze in place, his eyes filled with shock. He said in a hesitant voice, "I'm... Zacharias. You forgot me?"

I smiled sarcastically, "No one forgets those who let them down."