There was no reply to my last text message. Never. Maybe too much wine is to blame. Maybe hunger and maybe cigarettes and maybe fear of the dark and maybe someone hurt her. Or it was lack of interest. Or solitude. Or unwillingness. Or selfishness. Or they. Or me. Maybe it was the winter. Hair falls from the palms to the ground and it is slowly getting colder outside…

The postman rings and whispers and looks around to make sure no one else is listening and says that today is the big D-Day when special packages are delivered especially for special people who deserve what’s in it and those packages smell very special, after roses and they are tied with a special transparent bow that only he and I can see and they say those packages have a special charm. That they will change my morning, my day and, if I want, my life.

To make the morning charging and preparation for the whole day perfect, Roger&Gallet also has perfumed waters in its fragrant collection. Rose is the most beautiful and freshest for me. It is not aggressive at all, but on the contrary very refreshing and pleasing to the senses. It smells of Damask rose and Italian mandarins and musk. I am very happy that it comes in 100 ml packaging, because I will enjoy it to the last drop.

Fantastic. The body cream has a beautiful, sweet scent. I can already see myself somewhere in the south of Europe drinking a virgin mojito with a good amount of ice in a tall glass with a straw, a swimsuit with a lemon print, a straw hat, wet hair underneath, and no problems. Had I not visited a place by the salty sea and warm sand until now, this product would have started an entire galaxy of wishes in me. Especially the sunny and seaside ones.

And the city goes with me. Over bridges, along sidewalks, around the lake, and takes me to the evening bar by tram. Where he will order me a cocktail that he says suits me best. Cosmopolitan. He sits me by the window and looks at me. This glint of the street lights in his eyes… We look at each other through the window. Me here and the city there. He does not go away. He is there with me. We are silent. Just like that. We look into each other’s faces and at that moment it was all that I wanted. That feeling. That tender silence. That love.

It’s so perfect, that it brings me to all sorts of thoughts, and to silent madness, and the worst thing is the feeling that I don’t even deserve it all and that it’s too much and flawless. I don’t know where I would find a mistake if I was looking for one. I do not have a time. I’m busy. I am doing nothing and thinking about nothing and ice cream melts on my tongue and I cry here and there, just like that and Mia saves me from total collapse from happiness. I laugh at times and cry at times, and I am seldom calm. If this is happiness, then come and see, because this is what it looks like and this is how it should look like.

2 minutes read | 3 hours work

The scent of Nuxe reve de miel is real. It really smells like a three-liter glass full of honey. Like the one that we had at home in the pantry once upon a time. When I was little, I remember it was a very heavy glass and it was necessary to handle it carefully. At that time, honey was gifted as a reward, or for help, for mowing the garden, for the journey to the city, or just like that, and it was straight from the real bees and the beekeeper. And there was no honey from shops with a price tag and a label. It was real, unadulterated honey. It was used to sweeten tea. A drop of lemon was added, and whoever wanted and was of legal drinking age added a drop of rum, pouring on bread and butter, slowly running from the bread to fingers and clinging to everything around. Honey was served together with Christmas wafers and slowly, over time, in the jar, it crystallized. We melted it in hot water and returned it to the form of liquid gold.

2 minutes read | 3 hours work

The white blank wall called for some posters from Desenio. Why not straight up six. I knew what shades I wanted to go into but it took me a long time to decide and combine the posters. I could say, a few days. I went for pastel colors, shades of purple, green and yellow. It is a cheerful and positive combination and I was not afraid of that step at all. I told myself that once the pictures bored me over time, I would not mind. I will hang them on the nail this time and, if necessary, replace the paintings with other ones. Desenio still has a few thousands to choose from.

My Christmas had all the prerequisites to be perfect. A decorated Christmas tree as it should be. A welcoming white friendly nutcracker in front of my flat door, Christmas decorations on the balcony, including lights on the railings, candles, new plates, from which no one has ever eaten before, and it never occurred to me that no one would. Just me. Not being lonely, not having these empty chairs, empty plates, empty glasses, a toast without clinking, bitter wine and dry tears. Without it all, this post would not have been created. And I would not realize what the biggest Christmas gift actually means to me.