Point of no return, when a man will never become the prince of your dreams

Deep down, every woman is waiting for her prince on a white horse. And let us see that we are self-sufficient, successful, self-confident and prudent, we do not need help, we ourselves achieve the set heights, earn money, raise children and nail the shelves. We loudly assert that happiness is not in the peasant, and most importantly, to find harmony with ourselves, yet, somewhere in the secret corner of our soul, we are still waiting for that same one - strong, courageous, courageous and dear.

Remember your school time. Naive eyes, open heart and the belief that the world will open all doors for you. Remember that boy, a neighbor on the desk. As he looked at you with a loving glance, he sneaked a briefcase from school until no one saw him, timidly held his hand, stomped around your door in the cold, wrote love notes and, with tears in his eyes, confessed his love in a dark staircase.

Remember your student years. Togo of a tall shaggy boy, whom everyone considered the first handsome on the course, but not you. He told you bastard anecdotes with you, joked wittily, did penetration on your hands, attracted your attention by inappropriate behavior, invited you to the movies and gave you crooked-long bouquets of flowers. He knew that you like chocolate with raisins, early spring, green color and you can not stand to wear a hat. He covered you with his huge jacket when you were standing at the bus stop under a piercing wind. He gave you his umbrella in the pouring rain. He wore his warm gloves to you in a thirty-degree frost, and he walked, clenching his fingers into fists. He treated you when you were sick, put up with your girlfriends' jokes, wrote ridiculous poems and quietly sang your favorite song, stroking your hair.

He drove after you in the dank autumn on a rattling minibus to another city when you were offended by it and decided to take revenge and visit his first love. He begged forgiveness on his knees, spoke in a trembling voice and wept because he was afraid of losing you.

It was the very real man. The prince you are waiting for so far. The one who does not betray, will not leave in a difficult moment, will not shift the burden of responsibilities onto your shoulders and will always cover with his jacket. The one who will wait, believe, appreciate and preserve your love. The one who will be there forever.

This image will be imprinted forever in your memory, no matter how old you are - 30, 40 or 50. You will grow, grow, change, transform, grow into armor of egoism, but that young man with touching eyes and trembling voice will always be in your heart.

And maybe somewhere in a different reality, he is waiting for you at the entrance, standing on a thirty-degree frost, so that when he sees you, run up, hug and breathe in such familiar and dear smell.