Sasha

The night was deep and velvety, broken only by the distant lights of lanterns and the flickering flame in the hands of Sasha and his friend. The balloon they held glowed a soft orange, and on its fragile surface, in the uneven handwriting of one of the boys, was written: " Can I be your boyfriend? " and a note from Sasha: " I love you ." It was their ritual, their annual reminder of the day they first launched a similar balloon, full of hope and timid feelings.
But this time, everything was different. Their lips touched in a kiss, sweet and bitter at the same time. Yesterday, they decided to break up. Not because they had fallen out of love, but because life had separated them into different cities, along different paths, and maintaining their relationship had become unbearably difficult.
"You know," Sasha whispered as the balloon finally began to rise, carrying their words into the endless sky, "I'll still love you. For another ten years, for sure."
The guy smiled through his tears, looking at the receding light.
“Me too,” he replied. “I promise. Ten years. And then we’ll see.”
And this glowing ball, floating away into the night, became a symbol of their strange but sincere promise. A promise to love, to remember, and perhaps to find each other again one day, when the stars align as they should.