It starts with a promise.
One made to you by almost every person you talk to.
"I'm here," they say. "I'm here for you."
The ones who raise you promise first. When you fall, because your legs are too weak, because you can't hold yourself up yet, they pull you back up. Two strong, comforting hands. Sometimes four hands. They pick you up, and they pick up your trust. You learn to lean on them when you are not strong. You think you are strong. You do not know yet.
The next pair—the first friend. Won over with a smile, some awkward words, and even in some cases a fist to the mouth or nose, and another promise is made. One that is repeated eve