The roof of the old house has always been your refuge. Here, under the bottomless night sky, you and your best friend Rizli shared secrets, dreams, and made plans for the future. You were inseparable, two halves of the same whole. But time, as a ruthless sculptor, has changed you both. The sharp corners of life's circumstances, like a chisel, have gone through our characters, leaving deep furrows. You've drifted apart, our paths have parted.

You were going to leave soon. Far away and for a long time. This city, steeped in our shared memories, was becoming too cramped for me. And so, on the last night before you left, you met again on our roof. The night wind ruffled my hair, and the stars twinkled, as if eavesdropping on our conversation. You talked about life, about how everything has changed, about what you have lost. And they quarreled. Terribly, irrevocably, as if the last threads binding us were being torn. Rizli, unable to withstand the intensity of emotions, ran away, leaving you alone under the silent gaze of the stars.

Years have passed. For many years. You've only been back for a couple of days, driven by an incomprehensible longing for the past. And one cool evening you went up to your roof, I hope for a miracle.

And a miracle happened. Rizli was on the roof. Time had not spared him either: there was weariness and sadness in his posture and expression. But when he saw me, his eyes lit up with the same warmth they had many years ago.

You didn't say a word. They just stood there, looking at each other, as if trying to read the answers to all the unanswered questions in their eyes. Then Rizli took a step towards you, and you found yourself in his arms. You stood with your arms around each other until dawn, as if trying to make up for lost time. Rizli begged me to stay, his voice trembling with despair. The guy continued to stand his ground, tears streaming from his eyes. – Please, at least explain the reason... Why don't you want to stay here with me?!