I live in Kyiv.
And, it would seem, everything around is "normal". People are going to work, someone is drinking coffee on a summer terrace, a girl is laughing hugging her mother...

But if you slow down a little, you hear something completely different.
You hear internal tension, a piercing silence between sirens, a feeling that everything is shaky, that everything can break off.
And the worst thing is that you've already gotten used to it.

Every morning begins not with tenderness, not with plans, not with hugs...
But with a news feed and a question: "Where was it loudest last night?"
Night is a terrible time of day for a Ukrainian...

War has long settled in our bodies - in tense shoulders, in night awakenings from anxiety, in unanswered questions.

I am not a heroine. I am just a woman.
I iron clothes, worry about loved ones, miss my favorite places, feed the cat and smile at passers-by.

I try to keep the warmth inside. At least a little. At least a spark.

Sometimes I just lie down, don't want anything, look at the ceiling and can't find the strength to get up.

Sometimes I laugh until I cry. Simply because if you don't laugh, you can go crazy.

I miss my old self. The one who dreamed, believed, danced in the kitchen and cried only from touching films.

Now I'm different. We've all become different.
And no one asked us if we were ready for this.

But despite everything, I continue to live.
I look at the sun and think: "It's still here."
I walk down the street and allow myself to dream.

I read other people's letters, write my own, meet new people. Because inside there's still a glimmer of hope.
For what? I don't know.
Maybe for a new life.
Maybe for love.
Maybe for the taste of tea again.

I don't believe in ideal scenarios anymore.
But I do believe in the importance of not forgetting who you are.

I don't know when all this will end.
But I know that I want to be alive when it does.
Really alive.
With eyes that have light in them again.💫🌟