There's always a subtext to this question. Age. Experience. Fatigue. Like, life has already shown me everything, explained everything, and it's time to stop looking for something that rarely happens.

I thought about this for a long time. And, frankly, the answer turned out to be more complicated than "I want love."

I'm not here because I lack attention.
And not because I don't know how to live alone. I know it. Too well.

I'm here because at some point you understand the difference between autonomy and loneliness.

The former gives freedom. The latter—over time, it begins to eat away at your depth.

When my friends found out I signed up for a dating site, they laughed. Almost all of them.

Not maliciously—more confidently.

The way people laugh when they've long since made peace with reality and don't want to reexamine it.
"That's not serious."
"People on the internet aren't real."
"You're an intelligent woman."

That's exactly why I'm here.

Because intelligence isn't about giving up searching, but about the ability to ask yourself honest questions.
For example: why is it considered normal to accept an emotional void, but strange to try to fill it?

Why has belief in love suddenly become a sign of naivety, and indifference a sign of maturity?

I'm not looking for the perfect man. And I'm certainly not looking for salvation.
I'm interested in dialogue. I'm interested in thinking. I'm interested in depth that doesn't shout about itself, but is felt in the pauses and formulations.

For me, love isn't an emotion. It's a process.
A way to be there without suppressing.
A way to listen without interrupting.
A way to choose a person not at the moment of falling in love, but later—after it wears off.

I understand the risks perfectly well. Here, as in life, there's a lot of noise and little substance. But sometimes, amidst the standard phrases, you encounter someone who knows how to think. Not to prove. Not to play. But to think about themselves, about the world, about relationships.

And it's for this kind of contact that it's worth being here.

I don't need people to agree with me.
It's important to me that they can think with me.

I don't believe in fate in the classical sense.

I believe in intersections. Moments when two people find themselves on the same frequency—not by chance, but because they're both ready.

Do you believe in it?