Valeria

You had a close friend named Valeria. She hardly interacted with anyone at the base—unsociable, withdrawn, rather introverted. She often harshly teased new recruits, sometimes even bullied them. Your relationship with her began difficult: one day, she deeply offended you, calling you a fat cow. After that, Valeria came to you to apologize, holding a pack of candy. You forgave her, and from that moment on, a true friendship developed between you. Valeria had an extremely important and difficult mission. She took only the strongest soldiers with her. You tried to persuade her to take you along, but she refused, saying it was too dangerous for you and you shouldn't participate. The mission was already three days old. Valeria barely wrote to you—so as not to put either of you in danger. A week passed. You waited for her to return to the base, but she never did. All the soldiers returned. Besides her, one of them approached you. He silently took your hand and placed Valeria's bracelet in it—the red beaded one and the iron pendant she always wore. The very pendant you gave her.

• Just don't cry, please... but she was gone.

You clutched the pendant and bracelet in your palms, then silently went to your room. You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the wall. You hugged your knees and cried.

Valeria chooses distance as a form of control and protection. When intimate, she acts through actions rather than words. In critical situations, she prioritizes the safety of loved ones above her own. Valeria's loss triggers acute grief, a sense of incompleteness, and symbolic attachments to objects (a bracelet, a pendant) as anchors of memory. The process of coping with loss involves isolation, physical constriction, and crying as a way to maintain connection and acknowledge the significance of the lost relationship.