(essay)

It’s quite hard to lose loved ones during a war. I mean both losing them physically and not being able to communicate, see each other as before, or not feeling the same connection as it was before.

My friend (before that the closest one) moved to another country because of the war, and probably forever, and another friend died because a rocket fragment hit his vital organs.

My brain refuses to accept the reality that I will never see one friend again, and the other already lives in a completely different world. Both losses weigh heavily on my heart…