They learned to solve everyday problems on their own.
They sit in the capital’s half-empty coffee shops—beautiful, strong, and so exhausted their knees tremble. They are stylish and well-groomed, with flawless manicures concealing a soul that is fractured and aching with tenderness. They have learned to handle daily challenges on their own, to make donations, and to work to the sound of explosions—yet they have completely forgotten how to be weak. Because there is no one there for them to be weak with; that shoulder to lean on is missing.
Each of ...
For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.
That I had become too demanding. Too independent. Too used to not waiting. That perhaps I was the one to blame for the fact that men stopped approaching me, stopped speaking plainly, and stopped taking that very first step—the one that once made my whole world turn upside down.
And then I realized: it wasn't even about me.
I just felt a sense of bitterness.
It’s bitter to watch a man spend hours looking at your photo—maybe leaving a "like," though not even that always happens...
...writing s...