That silence that used to seem ordinary and unnoticeable.

Before the war, mornings began differently.

Without disturbing news, without inner tension.

Just sunlight through the curtains, the smell of coffee, plans for the day.

I could dream of the future and not think about how everything could change in an instant.

I remember evening walks around my hometown.

The warm breeze, the light of the lanterns, the laughter of friends.
No one looked back, no one listened to the sky.

We lived peacefully, freely, truly.

Now every little pleasure has become precious. The light in the window. A warm conversation. A good night.

But you know... these memories don't hurt me. They warm me. They remind me of what the world can be. And what it will definitely become again.

I believe in this. Because if we had a peaceful "before," then there will also be a bright "after." 🤍