Evening

Evening was descending over the sea; the colors of sunset gave way to deep blue, and a cold wind tugged at the wet sand underfoot.

He stood on the shore — feeling the chill of the damp air biting into his skin, the roar of the surf drowning out everything around. Their hands intertwined; the gentle warmth of her palm burned him, penetrating deeper and erupting into his heart as both pain and joy at once. They stood close, in embraces and kisses — those sparks of living love, capable of both purifying and destroying simultaneously.

But suddenly he took a step forward, and the water met his feet with a coolness that turned into icy hell. The waves slowly rose higher, washing over his knees, thighs, chest. His heart beat faster, his breathing began to falter. The feeling of light languor gave way to panic — the water pulled him deeper with each moment, and the cold pierced him to the bone. The smell of salt became sharp, stinging, filled with brine and sea mist.

Suddenly he couldn't get enough air. He tried to inhale, but his throat constricted; his lungs were squeezed by invisible vices. Fear flooded his mind — the fear of loss, the fear of remaining forever in this abyss. His hands instinctively sought a foothold, something to grab onto, but around him was only the eternal emptiness of water and the cold of darkness. He tried to cry out, but his voice wouldn't come — only a muffled echo in the depths of his consciousness.

Suddenly she was beside him — as if emerging from the very depths, softly but confidently, her hand firmly gripping his wrist. Her touch was both gentle and unyielding, like an anchor in a stormy sea. She pulled him toward herself, drawing him in with her strength and warmth, as if she wanted to pull him out of the water, out of the fear, out of this icy abyss into which he was helplessly drifting like a wave. Her eyes burned with a quiet fire — in them was love, understanding, and a promise that he would not remain alone in this depth.

In that moment, everything around disintegrated into pieces — love seemed at once the brightest light and the darkest nightmare. He was drowning, but it wasn't his body drowning — it was his soul, struggling with the overwhelming fear of being forgotten or unloved. And in that trackless expanse, a tiny spark flared in his heart: love is precisely a plunge into the unknown, into chaos of feeling, where only the brave can remain themselves.

The water closed over his eyes, and the world fell silent. He accepted his fate...

Suddenly he awoke. His heart was racing wildly, his lungs greedily drawing in air as if for the first time in a long while. Damp hair stuck to his forehead, cold sweat on his cheeks. It was a dream — terrifying and beautiful. He sat up in bed, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of his heart. Outside, dawn was already breaking. The first bird trills rang out, as if the new day was whispering promises and hopes. Everything around seemed just as it had been yesterday: the same walls, the same city, the same rhythm. And yet now he knew — love is inseparable from danger and fear; it lives where a person is ready to drown and resurface, to change, to grieve and to rejoice.

So it will be tomorrow and the day after — the struggle between the fear of loss and the desire to be together, between calm and the storm of passion.

This dream taught him not to fear the depths....