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.

I have a favorite backpack that I take almost everywhere with me. It’s nothing fancy or stylish, definitely not brand new, but somehow it carries hundreds of memories inside.

Hello, my dear)) 😊🍓 Want me to tell you a funny story? Just don't laugh too loudly! 🙈

I went into the store just to buy a simple loaf of bread, but somehow I ended up pushing not one, but two full carts of groceries out the door.

😊💌 I want to share with you one of my passions... I love taking pictures! 📸 It's not just a hobby - it's my way of seeing the world, noticing beauty in simple things and capturing moments that slip away so quickly... 💫

Hello, my dear stranger! 🌹✨I hope you don't mind that I'm writing to you???

This silence is not peace — it’s a slow poison. It eats away at trust and closeness. When communication breaks down this way, both sides suffer.

When you grow and start developing, it doesn’t always bring cheers. Sometimes it brings annoyance.

I tried everything: wet wipes, paper towels, sun-drying it on the balcony, even pretending it didn’t happen. But no. The purse never recovered. The love was gone.

I start overexplaining like I’m auditioning for a role in a crime drama.

There is something special in a view that is not hiding. The look in which silence lives. Gentle, warm, real. Not flashy, not on the way - one that touches somewhere deep inside.

I combine fire and light, power and lightness. I'm not just dancing - I live with a dance. Every movement of my body is a language. It's a story. It's an emotion.

Pizza is supposed to be comfort food, right? Warm, cheesy, tasty — something that just makes your day better. But once, I decided to try a “pizza with everything.”

Now, I’ve learned to pick comfort first, even if it means skipping the latest styles. Healthy feet and feeling good while walking should always come first — that’s what really matters in the long run.

Even when I get home late, when my legs ache, when all I want is to collapse on the couch and do nothing — Still, I lean down, take them off gently, and place them right. I don’t toss them in a corner. I don’t kick them under the shelf.

There are things that are not worth hiding. Like, for example, fresh bread - while it is still warm, with a crispy crust, you want to immediately break off a piece and give it to someone nearby. Or like the spring sun after a long winter - it is impossible to keep it inside, you will definitely say to someone: "Look at the sky today!"