Spring, where are you? Every morning I look out the window like a girl in love waiting for her prince. And there - again a gray sky, a biting wind and no hint of warmth. Ukraine in May, but it feels like March again or even late February...
I have already taken out light dresses, dreaming of walks in the sun, of the first leaves that whisper about changes. Of meetings where you can sit on a bench and drink coffee, looking into the eyes - without wrapping yourself in a scarf. It's cold. But inside - it's still warm. Because somewhere there is a person to whom you write "Good morning" and want to warm him not with the sun, but with yourself. Maybe spring is not hiding outside, but is waiting to meet in someone's heart?