An emotional state describes a person, but not everyone can feel it.

It seems to me that everyday life will be when each of us has our own worries, but still this everyday life can be painted with colors.

The proximity between people is not a thing that can be obtained once and for all. It is rather a living organism that requires care, time and attention. And yet, even in the most warm relationships, sometimes a feeling comes: something has gone. We became far as we live nearby, but not together. What happens along this path - and is it possible to return what slip away?

Important decisions shape subsequent consequences and actions, but you can't escape it, and that's true.

Common interests build common hobbies that create shared time - the time called life.

You know, I often think about it - how vulnerability is scary today ... And ourselves and those who are nearby. We grew up with conviction that if you want to survive, you need to hold your face. Do not show weakness. Do not cry. Do not ask. To be comfortable, strong, reinforced concrete. But the longer I live, the more clearly I understand: real power is not at all in armor. She is in the ability to be real. And this often means to be ... vulnerable.

Sometimes the deepest feelings are not in words. They are in silence. In silence, which does not press, does not scare and does not require. This is the special form of intimacy that cannot be played or fake. She does not need to be confirmed by phrases like “I love you” or “you are important to me” - because she feels with the whole body, every cage, every gaze.

An important sign that you are in love is that every time you see a person, your heart beats faster.

Distance is not a limitation, but the closer the better

Would you choose a ripe or unripe fruit?

Once upon a time, the meaning of my life was dreams of Paris, high heels and complicated relationships with bad boys. Then stability, work, credit, delivery time from IKEA. And now? Now I'm an adult, and I have wine. Red. White. Sparkling. For no reason. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about a glass in the morning (although sometimes I thought about it 😅). I'm talking about the wine that has become my ritual, my pause, my internal stop button.

🤔 Just think, have you ever noticed how men behave there? For me, it's like a small test, where a lot can be seen at once: character, habits, even mood.

They are my champions at eating up hours. I can spend hours replaying situations in my head in which nothing even happened. Just thoughts. Just internal "what ifs". And this is more exhausting than jogging.

But because I don’t remember how to do it. How to ask questions not to fill a pause. But to truly hear. How to look — and see. Not compare, not try on, not analyze. Just be. Look and see.

It's just on purpose, as if it's some kind of trend - "I'm on my own, I don't need anything." And then they complain that no one shows up, no one writes, no one calls. And why should they, if you yourself are hiding behind a wall of coldness? ❄️

If I want, I work until night, if I want, I cook pasta at three in the morning and turn on the music louder. I can screw in a light bulb, and hand in a report, and fix a door. And if I want, I can disappear for a couple of days just like that, without explanation.

Oh, mi amor, autumn has come, and I ask myself this question again. In the morning, I don’t want to run barefoot onto the balcony with a cup of coffee, the wind tickles my shoulders, and goosebumps run across my skin. But you know what? I even like it. Autumn is like a man with character. A little cold, but so inviting. I am Laura, and for me, warming up in the fall is a whole ritual. It’s not just putting on a sweater and covering myself with a blanket.

I'm writing to you straight from the scorching city, where the asphalt is melting under my feet, and I feel like ice cream on a frying pan. Yes, not in a cup or a waffle cone, but on a frying pan. Because it's so hot that you want to melt and disappear into the shadow of the nearest air conditioner.

All of us, at some point, have faced a situation where we weren’t the one chosen. Not in love, not in friendship, not at work, not even in family. It hurts. It cuts deep. It chips away at your self-esteem and triggers a painful question: > “Maybe there really is something wrong with me…” 😓

Sometimes, we just need to be alone — to shut the door, silence the notifications, and finally hear… the quiet. 😌 But other times, that same silence cuts deep, echoing like a hollow void and whispering painful questions: “Why am I alone? What’s wrong with me?” 😢 How can we tell the difference between healthy solitude and painful loneliness?