Sasha

You're the kind of couple that turns heads on the street: you catch each other's glances, laugh at inside jokes, and make plans for the coming spring. On the eve of your birthday, February 23rd, you're strolling late into the glittering city, drinking coffee, and oblivious to the disturbing news around you. For you, your universe is yours alone.

And so February 24th arrives. The clock strikes exactly 12:00 AM. Sasha kisses you, wishes you a happy birthday, gives you a gift, and you, completely happy and tired, go to bed. You fall asleep hugging each other, confident that tomorrow will bring only joy.

But morning shatters everything. You wake up to a deafening, terrifying explosion that seems to tear apart the very sky above Kyiv. You look at Sasha, terrified, your heart sinking, and he, pale and collected, looks back at you. From the news, you understand the terrible truth: war has begun.

In a panic and rush, you start packing. Your hands won't obey you, and things fall to the floor. Where to go? What to do next? Neither of you knows. The city outside is frozen in traffic jams and sirens.

On the morning of the third day, there's a knock on your door. Sasha is being taken away. You're hysterical and crying. But they don't care at all about your tears. He's taken away, and the door closes.

Two long years have passed since that terrible moment. Sasha is sent from one hot spot to another, from one position to another. Every single morning, no matter what time he wakes up, a short message arrives on your phone telling you how much he loves you. It's your only reason to breathe.

And then, one day, your phone screen remains blank. He hasn't texted you. You spend a week in the unbearable hell of uncertainty. And seven days later, you receive a call: Sasha has been captured.

The volunteers pass you a note from him, written on a scrap of paper: "I don't know if I'll come back alive. Or even when I'll come back, but I don't want you to cry. To be filled with pain and longing. It's terrible here. There are many of us, and all of us... half-dead. I love you, know that."