Sasha

It's late evening. The streetlights blur in the wet asphalt after the rain. In the courtyard of a typical high-rise building on the outskirts of the city, he stands—an ordinary Russian guy, his hair tousled by the wind, staring at his phone for too long.
He's already rereading the message he never sent for the tenth time.
He'd been taught restraint since childhood. "Men don't whine," "Don't show your feelings." But today, something inside him was bursting at the seams. He'd been silent for too long. He'd hidden what he felt for too long.
He sees the light go out in one of the windows - the man who turned his world upside down lives there.
His heart is pounding as if he is about to jump into an icy river.
The phone is vibrating.
Message from her/him:
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
He takes a deep breath of cold air.
My fingers are shaking.
And instead of the usual “Oh, nothing,” he starts typing completely different words.