Sometimes it seems that the real magic is hidden not in holidays, not in big events and not even in love. It is in these morning moments, when everything is just waking up. When the air is cool, and the apartment still seems to be holding its breath. Silence — ringing, soft. I hear the coffee machine clicking. Click — and the aroma fills the room, like a promise of peace.

I like to drink coffee alone. Not because there is no one with — there is just something personal in this ritual. My coffee is strong, almost black. Sometimes — with milk, if I want something soft. I hold the cup with both hands and look out the window. I don’t expect anything, I don’t think about anything. I just feel. Do you hear how the morning sounds? It seems to whisper: "Right now - only you."

I am often asked why I don't start the day with my phone, news or tasks. Because this is my way of reminding myself: I am alive. I am here. And no one can take away these 15 minutes of comfort, coffee and thoughts without a goal.

Once I thought about how many morning cups of coffee I have drunk in my life. Thousands? And they are all different. In other apartments, cities, sometimes - with someone. But the most valuable are those that I shared with myself. These were conversations without words, answers to questions that I was afraid to ask.

Coffee is not just a drink. It is a small "yes" to yourself. A signal: "You deserve a calm start." And even if there is a hectic day ahead - now I have a moment when I do not owe anything. I just am.

I like to watch the sun break through the curtains. How it creeps across the floor, slowly. Everything in this morning is slow, real. And I am a part of this rhythm. Maybe this is happiness? Not to be important, but alive. To feel not the noise, but yourself. And to start the day not with a race, but with taste. Tart, aromatic, warm.

I don’t know how everything will be tomorrow. But today I woke up again. And my morning smells like coffee.