The Art of Waiting: Why Patience Is Not a Weakness, but a Strength of Love

I grew up in a neighborhood where everyone knew each other by name, and grandmothers sat on benches from morning to evening.

This is not a story from a movie. This is just my life. Without drama, but with a reality that taught me not to break down.

There are cities that you don't just want to go to, but get lost in. For me, Krakow has become that way - even from a distance. I imagine myself walking along the old streets with a coffee in my hands, looking for something that has no name.

Honestly, I don't really know how to start such letters. Probably because I want to be myself - simple, alive, real... And not seem like some kind of "perfect picture" with beautiful words 🌸

I thought for a long time about where to start my letter... after all, how can I convey in words that I want not just to get to know someone, but to really find someone close in spirit? I hope I will be able to catch your attention - after all, I try very hard to write not just banal words, but something alive, real, from the heart 💌

Sometimes it seems to me that the warmest thing a person has is their home))😊❤️

At such moments, it seems that faith, like an invisible thread, should be what will support and make this world a little brighter, more fulfilling and understandable. But, despite all this, the heart continues to remain empty, and loneliness is like old, uncomfortable clothes that you do not want to take off, but you do not want to walk in them either.

My heart was racing, and the taste… oh, that taste! Sweetness with just a hint of bitterness spread through me like a warm sunrise breaking through cloudy skies..

I’ve cracked passwords by guessing favorite football teams, childhood nicknames, or even by figuring out patterns on the keyboard.

That kiss became a lesson for her — sometimes what’s meant to be perfect gains a special charm in its imperfections.

Stylish, expensive, with a flattering cut that hugged my waist just right. I treasured it like a secret weapon, imagining how confident I’d feel wearing it on vacation.

Middle of the night, I hear a “meow.” Soft. Strange. I open my eyes — no cat.

My friend once had a date that turned into a real-life drama — and oddly enough, a broken nail became her ticket out. 😅

Some secrets are just too fun to keep.

Switching to a new phone feels like moving into someone else’s apartment where nothing’s where it should be. Weird, maybe, but it matters to me.

I took a deep breath, sighed, and pushed through the pain.

Everyone has that one perfectly written message they never send. It might be a confession, a long-hidden truth, or a challenge they’re too afraid to voice. Often, these words feel too honest, or the fear of a reply outweighs the need to speak up.

Now I’ve grown. I eat what I want. I text when I feel like it. And if I call first — it’s only to order pizza. Or wine. Or both.

I had a favorite towel — the kind you don’t even think much about until it’s gone. It was old and soft, definitely not the prettiest one in the bathroom, but just perfect.