02-05/04 Chapter 390: A drop in the ocean that no one notice
Yesterday, on Tuesday, while we were on our way back, I went ahead and listed our house on Airbnb—I was feeling anxious that morning and just wanted to get it done.
By Tuesday afternoon, a woman messaged me saying she wanted to book two nights. But since I had also posted the listing in my sales and bazaar groups, I was still waiting to hear back from a few people I knew personally. Around five people had shown interest—some even seemed like a sure thing—but in the end, none of them followed through. One of them was actually my aunt Andreia’s boss (my mom’s sister) and it really looked like it was all set. We were expecting to get R$4,500 for the full 4-night, 5-day holiday stay. That amount would’ve gone straight to our account, without Airbnb taking a cut, and of course, it always feels safer renting to people you know. You trust their character—you know they’re not going to steal or destroy anything.
But later, I found out that Airbnb doesn’t actually charge the host that much. Most of the fee comes from the guest’s side. The platform makes a lot of money that way. Just think about how many houses, apartments, country homes, and who knows what else get rented every day. The guest pays a big service fee, and the host pays a small one. Multiply that by thousands of rentals per day, and it’s money I can’t even begin to imagine.
On the other hand, Airbnb does offer protection. If something goes missing or gets damaged, they’ll often reimburse you—sometimes charging the guest. They also have a review system, similar to Uber’s, where you can read ratings and comments from other hosts who’ve had the same guest stay in their property before. That gives you a little more peace of mind.
Anyway, right after that woman asked to book two nights, another man messaged saying he wanted to book the entire holiday. But he said the price showing on his end was R$5,600, while I was seeing something around R$4,600. He asked if I could adjust the price to match what I was seeing, but I explained that if I did, Airbnb would take a big chunk, and it just wouldn’t be worth it. He said he’d think about it and get back to me.
Not long after, a woman named Julia messaged me asking how she could be sure the property was real, since it was a new listing. I explained that we had just bought the house, but she could check my reviews from the times I’d stayed in other Airbnb places. I also mentioned that Airbnb doesn’t release the payment to the host until 24 hours after the guest checks in—so if there was any problem, if the place didn’t even exist, for example, they wouldn’t even release the money. Once I explained that, she booked it. And that booking—our first—was a huge relief.
She reserved the whole holiday, and we earned a profit of R$4,650, which was even a little more than I had planned to charge through my sales group. Later, I saw that she had actually paid R$5,800. That means Airbnb made R$1,800 just from her, and they took R$170 from our side—nearly R$2,000 total from one five-day booking. That’s just us. Now imagine how much money is circulating through that platform every single day.
So in the end, the woman paid even more than we had expected. What really surprised me, though, was that within just three hours, three people had shown interest. That made me think our house was going to take off, that it would be rented constantly—especially after what happened over Easter weekend. But then I realized... all three inquiries were for the holiday. And when the week rolled around, I kept waking up early each morning to check Airbnb, hoping for a notification. Nothing. A whole week went by without a single new request, and I’ll be honest—it left me feeling really discouraged.
That’s when it hit me: maybe we’ll really only rent out the house during holidays and big festive weekends. Still, not a single inquiry for any regular weekend? That felt hard to swallow.
But then again, I understood. Our price is on the higher side, and not without reason—it’s a large, beautifully decorated home. And when you add Airbnb’s steep service fees on top of it, the total cost gets pretty high for guests. Ideally, we’d use the platform to get our name out there, earn trust from guests, and then, next time, have them book directly with us. That way, they wouldn’t have to pay such inflated fees, and we’d earn a little more too.
The hard part is always building that first list of loyal guests.
Right now, we’re just a drop in the ocean. We’re new, and there are countless listings out there—many hosted by people with way more experience, who already know how to attract bookings. I even saw one house that’s rented out almost constantly. Like I said before, it really feels like we’re just another drop in this massive sea of vacation rentals.
Our neighbor, for example—my dad became friends with him, he’s the building manager—he also rented out his place over Easter and made around R$5,000. But he’s been doing this for a long time. He knows the game. We’re still finding our footing. That’s why I tried to offer something different in our listing. In addition to fresh linens and towels, I made the check-in time 8 a.m. and check-out time late in the evening. Basically, guests get an entire extra day for free. Most Airbnb listings only allow check-in at 4 p.m. and require check-out by 10 or noon—you end up paying for a day you barely get to enjoy. I wanted our place to feel like a better deal.
But I believe that with the changes we’re planning to make—little décor upgrades here and there, better photos—we’ll start winning people over. I know things take time. I need to be patient and trust the process.
And like I said, building a client base is always the hardest part. Everyone starts as a drop in the ocean that no one notices. Just look at your father. He’s entering the tattoo world now, and he’s been doing free tattoos to build a portfolio and get referrals. There are so many tattoo artists out there—it’s an incredibly competitive field. And that’s true for anyone starting something new.
A lawyer, for instance, starts out the same way—just another drop in the ocean, trying to land their first clients. Your father with his tattoos. Me with my sales. I started selling when I was sixteen. I’m thirty-two now. I have over 500 customers in my groups, but that didn’t happen overnight. It took nearly 15 years of picking up a client here, another there. Doing promos, delivering orders on the subway, dropping things off at people’s homes. I worked hard to build the client base I have today.
Of course, there are careers where you don’t need to find your own clients. Teachers, for example. Or doctors who work in hospitals—the patients come through the hospital itself. People who work for companies usually have their workload provided for them. But there are many professions where building a client base is essential. Hairdressers, independent architects, interior designers—anyone who runs their own business instead of working under a contract.
Even doctors who work exclusively with private patients and don’t take insurance usually start out in hospitals and clinics, building trust and relationships over time. They need to form their own list of loyal patients before they can open a private practice and hope people will follow them there.
That’s how it goes—slowly winning people over, one by one, until you're no longer just a drop in the ocean that no one notices. One day, you become a big fish—one that everyone wants to catch.
07-09/04 Chapter 391: Shining star
With each passing day, you somehow manage to get even cuter. Your dad and I agree — this might just be your best phase yet. You wake me up with a kiss, wrap your little arms around me, and say “I love you more” in both English and Portuguese, with that irresistible sparkle in your voice. You tell us all about your day at school, mixing up your words in the sweetest way as you try so hard to say everything just right. You make us laugh and melt at the same time — like when I hand you a cookie, and without thinking twice, you ask for another one… so you can give it to Rafinha.
And that’s just the beginning.
The other day, our water filter broke, and I had to spend R$700 on a new one. I have no clue how to install those things, so I asked your dad for help — though he’s just as lost as I am when it comes to fixing stuff around the house. When it was time to hook up the hose, instead of shutting off the water valve, he accidentally turned it all the way on. The second he tried to connect the hose, water exploded everywhere — flooding the whole apartment! At first, we both panicked. I ran to grab the ladder and help him shut it off. But then… we just started laughing.
You were the first to say,
“Wow, it’s raining!”
Which only made us laugh harder.
And then you added,
“Daddy flooded my whole house.”
At that point, we completely lost it.
It’s moments like that that make us fall even more in love with this stage of your life. We even said to each other that if it were possible, we’d freeze time and keep you just like this forever. But since we can’t, all we can do is soak up every second.
There was another time when I pretended to be a wolf chasing you and your cousin around the house. He got a little scared, and you, brave as ever, ran to defend him — and hit me square in the forehead with a toy car. Of course, we don’t hit, but I knew your heart was in the right place. You were protecting someone you love. Looks like you’ll always fight for your people — claws out and all.
Believe me when I say: you are a shinning star in the lives of everyone lucky enough to be near you.
10/04 Chapter 392: I feel fine
Today was parents' meeting day — our very first one. Since both your dad and I wanted to attend, I made arrangements with Pietra to watch you so we could go.
My mom, grandma, and I all told my sister how important it was for her to be there too. After a bit of convincing, she agreed, and I offered to have Pietra watch Rafinha as well, since I was already paying her. Otherwise, Rafael would’ve had to miss a full day of work just to stay with him. Sometimes it feels like my sister doesn’t think things through — isn’t it better to spend a little money on help rather than lose a whole day’s pay?
So we left Mel and Rafinha with Pietra and the three of us headed off to the meeting together.
We got there just a bit late — parking was a nightmare. The school lot was completely full with parents’ cars. But we weren’t the last to arrive; a few moms came in after us.
The meeting wasn’t focused on individual kids — for that, you had to wait until the end to speak one-on-one with the teacher. Instead, she gave a general overview of classroom routines, activities, and showed each child’s folder filled with crafts, paintings, and collages.
Later on, some of the other staff introduced themselves — like the physical therapist and the English teacher. And just as the physical therapist wrapped up her part, she said she wanted to speak with the mothers of Rafael and Caio. Naturally, my sister immediately got worried — I would’ve too if my name had been called out like that.
After the meeting, my sister went to speak with her. She explained that Rafinha was having trouble forming full sentences. He knew a lot of words, but they were mostly isolated, not structured. The teacher gently suggested maybe seeing a speech therapist again — something he had done before, but it might be time to resume.
We ended up being the last to leave. All of us — me, your dad, my sister, and Rafael, who arrived at the end — stayed to talk with the teacher about our kids. And of course, Tayna brought up that question she always does about autism, since Rafael struggles with speech and doesn’t always respond to his name. But four different specialists have already ruled that out. The teacher also said it’s still too soon to jump to conclusions — it’s a matter of giving it time.
All I know is that, looking through your drawings and your folder, and talking about you, I felt fine. Just happy. I felt proud — proud of the little princess I’m raising. Your dad and I might disagree on parenting here and there, but deep down, I know I’m doing a good job. All I have to do is look at you, and I know.
As for what happened later that night with Pietra… well, I’ll let the video sum it up. 😅
With ea Beautiful, sweet, kind, affectionate… you shine in a way that lights up everything around you.
(faltou)
12/04 Chapter 393: Let's make the best out of our lives
Today we had such a fun afternoon.
The plan was to check out a new jungle-themed restaurant that opened at Trimais Mall, close to home. The place had a playful setup with lots of toys — a little train, ball pits, and games that looked just like the ones you find at kids’ party venues.
Your dad was supposed to come with us, but earlier today he texted saying he wouldn’t make it. One of the reasons he gave was that he didn’t want to watch everyone eating at the restaurant while you and your cousin were glued to the phone, watching cartoons.
I do agree that screen time at such a young age is tricky. Too much of it can really harm a child’s eyesight, leading to issues like myopia and hyperopia.
But the truth is, sometimes when you go out with little kids, you forget to bring toys or distractions, and getting through a meal at a restaurant without a meltdown can be really hard. So often, handing over a phone for a little while becomes the easiest solution if we want to sit and eat in peace.
And if your dad would rather miss out on watching you laugh and play just because of an hour of screen time... well, that's his choice. There’s not much I can do about it.
When we got to the restaurant, though, we ended up changing plans.
First, we found out that even customers had to pay extra for the play area — you had to buy a card and pay separately for each ride, which honestly felt pretty absurd.
And second, there were no staff members supervising the kids.
The whole idea was to let you guys play while we had a meal and then have you join us afterward, but without supervision, someone would have had to stay with you the whole time.
So, we decided to grab lunch at the food court instead, and afterward, we paid for some time at the inflatable playground so you could play safely.
You had so much fun on the inflatables!
As usual, at first, you were a little hesitant and scared, but after a few minutes, you opened up and had a blast!
We wrapped up the afternoon with some delicious ice cream. You picked a vanilla cone with confetti sprinkles and a drizzle of chocolate sauce.
You almost finished the whole thing — just a tiny bit was left, and even though you protested, I had to toss it because it was clear you couldn't take another bite.
And that’s how we ended a simple, happy day.
Your joy truly is our joy.
It’s a shame we didn’t get to try the restaurant or see how their burgers were, but honestly, at places like that, you often pay a premium for a theme, and the food isn’t even that great.
As for your dad, I had a serious talk with him.
We separated — though, honestly, it doesn't really feel like it. He still comes over every day, we see each other all the time, we’re constantly talking. It’s almost like nothing changed.
But starting today, we agreed to set a proper schedule: he’ll see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.
This time, I feel determined to stick to it.
We need this — not just for us to move forward, but so you can also understand, gently and clearly, that things are different now.
17/04 Chapter 394: Do we give a damn?
I managed to find a second guest to rent my dad’s beach house for the weekend, and I’m so happy about it. Our first guest is checking out on Monday, the 21st, and the new ones are arriving on Friday and leaving Sunday. I closed a deal for R$2,500 for the two nights, which is great. If you add that to the previous R$4,600 from the week, we’re looking at nearly R$7,000—excellent profit.
The second guest, though, came through my own personal network, not through rental platforms like Airbnb. Actually, something really odd started happening after I posted the listing. On the first day, I got messages from four people in no time, and then—after one person made a reservation—nothing. Complete silence. Which was strange, considering there’s a holiday from May 1st to 4th, same number of nights as Easter, same price. So where was everyone?
It got me suspicious, so I asked four friends with Airbnb accounts to look up the listing using the city and those dates. None of them could find it. That’s when the headache began. I tried contacting Airbnb support, explaining the issue. But they kept insisting everything was fine, that the listing was active and showing normally.
Of course it was “normal” to them—they’re viewing it from a business account. It also shows up for me when I’m logged into my own profile. But when regular users try to search for it? It simply doesn’t appear—unless I send them a direct link. But that defeats the purpose. If someone has to ask me for a link, they’d probably just rent directly through me and not pay Airbnb’s extra fees anyway. So I’m frustrated. I know the price is fair for the region, and it’s a great house. But because of some platform bug, people can’t even find the listing to book it.
Managing this house is part of my job. My dad pays me 10% to handle everything, and that includes these kinds of problems. For instance, our current guest mentioned there was no blender. I went ahead, bought one, and had it delivered to her directly. That’s how I try to solve any issues that pop up during a guest’s stay.
I actually love working with rentals and sales. Even if I don’t make a lot, I genuinely enjoy it.
But sometimes the things I see are just absurd. When I was digging around trying to figure out the issue with my listing, I came across complaints from other hosts too. One story stood out—a host had R$120 deducted from his payout because a guest complained there was no internet. Fair enough—if the listing promised Wi-Fi, the host should provide it. But when you read the full story, it turns out the issue wasn’t even the host’s fault. The whole neighborhood lost internet because of a regional outage. What could he have done?
Yet people don’t see it that way. They assume every inconvenience is the host’s fault, even when it’s clearly out of their control. It’s like renting a house and then leaving a bad review because the power went out during a storm. Seriously? Unless the host advertised “generator included,” how can that be their responsibility?
Accidents happen. But guests can be selfish. They don’t realize how damaging a bad review can be—it affects the host’s reputation, income, and livelihood. One negative review can really hurt, especially in such a competitive market.
When we went to Ubatuba to visit Raquel, you were just three months old. I remember asking the host beforehand if there were usually cockroaches in the house because of my phobia. She said it was rare but, being a beach house, she couldn’t guarantee. And of course, just our luck, one showed up—and your dad killed it in the bedroom. Did I mention that in my review? Not at all. I knew what I was getting into. It wouldn’t be fair to criticize her for something she had warned me about.
Now imagine someone else in my place—same situation, same warning—but instead of understanding, they go and trash the host, say the house is dirty, poorly maintained, and drop a one-star review. That one review could cost the host potential guests, and that might be her livelihood. That’s just cruel.
We even paid for pest control at my dad’s place, and still, the occasional one shows up and dies inside. That’s just nature. There’s only so much you can do.
I’m all for leaving honest feedback—when it’s truly justified. Poor customer service, a rude host, a house that’s actually dirty, or when promised amenities like a TV or air conditioner don’t work. That’s when a guest has the right to speak up. And even then, I think it’s fair to try contacting the host first and giving them a chance to fix it. But people these days are too quick to leave bad reviews—over the smallest things, in rentals, in restaurants. Maybe one day, when they run a business of their own, they’ll finally understand how much damage one careless comment can do. Especially in today’s hyper-connected world.
19/04 Chapter 395: A sight that almost stops your heart
Today seemed like it would be just another normal day — and it was, until the night completely turned everything upside down.
We arrived in the afternoon since the whole family had gathered for the holiday. Junior’s entire family was there, Cuca’s family too, and my grandparents. The only one missing from the gathering was my father — he was home, but he spent the whole day in bed because he had dengue fever.
He found out about it last week while he was at the beach house. It started with a fever, and at first, we were terrified it could be leptospirosis. He had been cleaning the roof, which was contaminated with rat droppings, and we knew how dangerous that infection could be. I immediately remembered the story of a wealthy businessman who died after drinking from a can contaminated by a rat. After that, I stayed on high alert.
They rushed him to the hospital, and fortunately, it wasn’t leptospirosis — it was dengue. Still, dengue can be dangerous.
I couldn’t help but remember when your paternal grandfather came to visit us and we traveled to Maresias. It was incredibly hot, yet he wore long pants and long sleeves every single day, afraid of getting bitten by mosquitoes — dengue was surging in Brazil back then. And your grandfather had already survived a hemorrhagic dengue episode once, the deadliest form. A second infection would have been even riskier. We were all so scared.
Back to now — dengue here in Brazil is no joke. Brazil has the greatest number of dengue cases in the world, with 3.2 million cases and 800 deaths reported from 2009–2014. Brazil has also been severely affected by outbreaks of Zika virus and chikungunya in the last few years. In June 2024, Brazil reached a staggering 6 million confirmed dengue cases. This marks a sharp rise from 2023, when the country recorded just over 1.6 million cases, highlighting the growing severity of the outbreak.
The key to recovery is hydration and rest — lots of it. Basically the opposite of what my father had been doing: drinking beer, climbing up roofs, fixing things around the house. Still, he seemed to be handling it okay... at least until the holiday weekend.
This time, he was visibly weaker, sleeping for hours, waking up only to fall asleep again. My grandmother insisted he needed to go to the hospital for a blood test to check his platelet count. Dengue can drastically lower platelets, and if they drop too much, hospitalization and IV fluids become critical.
Ideally, dengue patients should drink four liters of water a day. Most can't, and end up hospitalized just to stay hydrated. Dehydration is what makes the situation dangerous.
But your grandfather — he’s stubborn. He thinks he’s invincible, that no virus or illness could ever get the best of him. Convincing him to go to the hospital was nearly impossible. He refused, saying he’d wait until tomorrow if he still felt bad.
That night, after everyone had left, your grandmother was upstairs getting you ready for bed, and I stayed downstairs. Suddenly, I heard a loud crash. For a second, I panicked, thinking you might have fallen, but then I heard her voice talking calmly to you, and I figured something must have fallen upstairs.
Some time later, I decided to go upstairs and talk to my dad. He was in his office, and as I opened the door, he was already standing there, reaching for the handle. I said, “Dad, tomorrow you really need to go to the hospital. You’re looking very weak.”
And then, what happened was a sight that almost stopped my heart
Right after I spoke, I watched him slowly lose balance, like he was falling in slow motion. I rushed to get behind him, desperate to catch him before he hit his head. That’s the biggest danger when someone faints — the head trauma.
As he collapsed, I started shouting, “Dad? Dad?”
But what terrified me the most was that he fainted with his eyes open.
When I finally managed to lower him onto the floor, he was still staring blankly, as if his brain was short-circuiting. I screamed louder, “Dad? Daddy?” already sobbing uncontrollably.
Eventually, he closed his eyes. That’s when your grandmother came running.
And you, sweet girl, you witnessed the whole thing — your grandfather lying on the floor, your mother screaming.
You didn’t cry, which surprised me, considering how sensitive and emotional you’ve been lately. Instead, you looked stunned, confused, trying to make sense of it all. It broke my heart.
I called Rafael and Tayna in a panic. They didn’t answer at first, but after trying a few more times, my sister picked up. I begged her to send Rafael over to help get Dad to the hospital. Rafael raced over as fast as he could.
I was terrified. Seeing my father — a man who had always been so strong — collapse like that, with his face so pale it was almost translucent... it shattered me.
Even after all that, he still didn’t want to go to the hospital. He said he’d wait until tomorrow, which made me, my mom, and my grandma lose it. We yelled at him — he was going now. End of discussion.
Unbelievably, after fainting, he still tried to argue.
But the worst part? He confessed later that he had already fainted once before when he was alone and hit his head on the wall.
That loud noise I heard earlier? That was his head striking the wall hard enough for me to hear it downstairs.
And instead of calling for help, he got up and tried to walk it off. That’s when he fainted a second time — when I opened the door. Thank God I came upstairs when I did, otherwise he could’ve hit his head again and... I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.
They rushed him to the hospital. Luckily, the ER was empty, and they did blood tests and a CT scan immediately.
Thank God, the scan came back normal, and while his platelet count had dropped from 150 to 95, it wasn’t low enough for admission.
The doctor scolded him harshly — he had done everything wrong: drinking, smoking, not eating for days. Dengue drains your appetite, but you have to force yourself to eat and drink. Water, water, water — soup if you must — but hydration is survival.
He finally came back home around 4 a.m.
I was exhausted but relieved beyond words to have my father back home.
Maybe — just maybe — this experience will teach him something:
He needs absolute rest. He needs to stop pushing his body. He needs to listen when his body asks for help.
This was the second time I witnessed my father faint like that. The first was years ago, when he hurt his back lifting something heavy. But now... seeing him like this, so fragile... Watching my parents grow older, seeing their strength fade, it’s something that weighs heavily on my heart.
25/04 Chapter 396: Mama knows best
You've been congested for days—what else is new? Honestly, it feels like you haven’t really recovered since that bout of the flu and conjunctivitis we dealt with back when we went to Santos. That was ages ago… and now things are getting worse. Last night, I didn’t sleep a wink because you couldn’t stop coughing. It was one of those relentless coughs that don’t let up, the kind that triggers nausea. You actually came close to throwing up a few times. The coughing kept waking you up, and you just couldn’t settle down to rest.
Tonight, I had you sleep in my bed, and sometime during the night, I noticed something different. The sound of your cough had changed—it wasn’t the same. At 7 a.m., I decided to take you to the hospital. I’d planned to go to Sabará, but the traffic said it would take over an hour, so I changed course and went to São Camilo instead, just to get a chest X-ray.
And once again, that mother’s intuition of mine didn’t fail. The doctor noticed something unusual in your lungs, ordered an X-ray, and sure enough—you were at the onset of bronchopneumonia. That’s serious. She prescribed you a 10-day round of antibiotics and warned that if things didn’t improve or if you developed a fever, we’d need to come back—because then, most likely, you’d need to be admitted to the hospital.
That moment made one thing very clear to me: you’re going to have your adenoids removed. We’d been going back and forth about it, unsure whether surgery was really necessary. But now, I’m sure. Of course, the idea of surgery and anesthesia always brings fear. But when you weigh the risks against how often you’re sick—always congested, snoring, sleeping with your mouth open—there’s no question. Your quality of life matters more. I even brought it up with the doctor at the hospital, and she agreed that your adenoids could be a major reason why so much mucus keeps building up in you.
Now, all I need is clearance from the cardiologist after reviewing your tests. Once we have that, I’ll schedule the surgery with my ENT—the same one who treats my labyrinthitis. He’s an excellent doctor.
28/04 Chapter 397: The innocence can never last
(Caio's Chapter)
Nothing particularly remarkable happened over the past few days—nothing that felt worthy of a full chapter dedicated just to you. And lately, I’ve been in a strange place emotionally. I’ve found myself thinking a lot about my past relationship. I honestly don’t know why; it’s been seven years since we broke up. Maybe it’s just one of those emotional waves we ride every now and then. So, I figured I’d take this opportunity to write a bit about people from my past—those who, in one way or another, brought me to where I am today. And, to be honest, I want to make sure Caique’s chapter doesn’t take years to be written.
But today’s chapter isn’t about him. It’s about Caio—my best friend after Artur.
In Marcelo’s chapter, I mentioned how I bounced from school to school after leaving my old one because of my breakup. I was trying to find a place where I could feel okay again. It was at Alvorada that I finally found it—a sense of home and real friendships.
The school itself was tiny, and the academic quality was… well, let’s just say it wasn’t the best. In fact, when it came to education, it was kind of a mess. But for a few good years, I found something much more valuable there: people who made me feel like I belonged.
I still remember how it felt when I first walked into that school—it was like being tossed into a lion’s den. New students were rare in a place that small, so I instantly became the center of attention. Not because I was beautiful (I’ve already said I didn’t see myself that way back then), but simply because I was new. And even if I didn’t think much of myself, some of the boys disagreed—which meant I drew a bit of attention in the classroom too.
There were maybe 5 girls in the class, including me, and none of us were what you'd call the typical “pretty girls.” The rest were boys. But even with more guys, the total number of students wasn’t large—it really was a small school.
Still, the friendships I made there were unforgettable. They were kind, funny, warm-hearted people who welcomed me with open arms. And because of them, I stopped switching schools. I knew Alvorada would be where I’d finish high school.
There was Rodrigo—nicknamed Bel—who dated my sister for over a decade. Then Saulo, Luís, Jonas… and Caio. They made me feel included and special. Naturally, I only hung out with the boys, since the girls were usually wrapped up in gossip and clearly didn’t like me. But honestly, I didn’t care. I was at a point in my life where nothing really mattered anymore. I was still hurting over Marcelo, and I had no energy left to worry about people who didn’t like me. What mattered were the boys who became my friends—and especially, Caio.
Caio and I clicked instantly. He wasn’t someone I felt attracted to—not at that time, at least—but I saw him as someone I could trust, someone who’d stick by my side. And that’s exactly what happened. We became best friends almost overnight. I even remember how jealous he got whenever I mentioned Artur—because in his mind, the “best friend” title now belonged to him.
Caio quickly became part of my family, and my parents adored him. He was polite, smart, nice—it was impossible not to like Caio. But I was still too caught up in my heartbreak over Marcelo to ever see Caio as anything other than a friend. Some people used to say he was in love with me, but I never asked him about it. I was afraid of the answer, afraid it might ruin what we had. And I needed that friendship. I loved that friendship. He was always there—from beach trips to late-night talks. He was my confidant, my safe place. When I was falling apart, he was the one who stayed up with me, giving me advice and trying to make me smile. When I was happy, he was there too.
Our friendship lasted well beyond high school—up until our early twenties. I started at Alvorada when I was sixteen, and I think we remained close until I was around twenty-two.
We did everything together, especially with the rest of the guys from school. We’d go to bars, parties, hang out at my place up in Serra—even when it wasn’t fully built yet. We’d sit around a campfire, play guitar, joke around… It was a good time. A time of friendship and freedom.
A lot of people used to say I had Caio wrapped around my finger. That he followed me everywhere like a puppy. But I never saw him that way. I saw him as a brilliant friend. And that was just his personality—he was loyal, devoted. I think even now, he’s probably like that with whoever he’s with. Last I heard, through Bel, he was engaged.
Caio was like a brother to me. And while I may have still been mourning Artur during those years, I knew in my heart that Caio was a much better friend. He stayed longer. He cared deeper. He truly loved me. And though we eventually drifted apart, it happened for a very specific reason—one I don’t hold against him. I have no bitterness, no resentment. It’s just life.
It’s a shame you never got to meet him. I know he would’ve been sweet with you. Caio had a heart of gold. He was honest, smart, affectionate—the kind of friend everyone wishes they had. And sometimes, I do wonder… if only I had felt something more. If I’d seen him that way, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe we’d be together. Because Caio was the kind of man who, once he loves, he stays. He doesn’t cheat, he doesn’t lie, he doesn’t abandon. I never did find out if he truly had feelings for me or if people just assumed—but I know that, in my heart, I never saw him in that light. Unfortunately.
And I say unfortunately because he’s someone I would’ve liked to keep in my life.
But you can’t force feelings. You can’t manufacture something that isn’t there. No matter how much you might wish otherwise.
I still have photos and videos with Caio. I keep those things. I don’t just carry people in my heart—I carry the physical memories too. Maybe one day, if I’m still around and still have those files, I’ll show them to you. He was the kind of guy who’d dance with me, post silly videos with me on YouTube, and never care what anyone thought. And despite the whispers and judgments from others, we never let it affect us. Our friendship was ours, and that was enough.
Oh—and I’ve always been a bit of a matchmaker. I’ve introduced lots of couples over the years. I could make a whole list, but it’s not worth mentioning most of them—they’re not in my life anymore and won’t be getting chapters. But one couple I introduced was Caio and someone else… and as far as I know, they’re still together. Last I heard, they were engaged.
