A new neighbor came to me often, I noticed that he came exclusively for dinner and empty-handed, I did not tolerate it for a long time.

How to recognize seriousness one person to another? In practice, this is not so easy to determine. There are many psychotypes of people. There are, for example, artists, as from the song of Alla Pugacheva, who can sell their house, just to give their chosen one a million scarlet roses. And then what?



Peels A is, on the contrary, too serious and confident in their future men. They only need women as part of their plan. Feelings, love, relationships are secondary. The main thing is that it was as in the standard scheme, as in people. And then there's the free-riders, mom's sons, gigolo and the rest. How to understand this canon of “decent, serious cavaliers”?

In the first year of marriage, I thought I understood life and now I just have nothing to surprise. Why I thought that, I still don't know. We dated for a long time, then I moved into his apartment, and voila: a new family was created. The most interesting thing was that in my mind I realized that we were adults and we both had to work on our relationship. But it was still a one-goal game.

My husband worked as a cook. Not some super cook at a three-star Michelin restaurant. No, a regular cook in a nice cafe. He made money, and I was the head of the household. And yes, I cooked too. Because to require a husband to take a job at home would be somehow unconscionable.



But as time passed, we were both consumed by routine. I was sitting at home, doing my usual household chores, and somehow I was completely let go. The husband is the opposite. Constantly working, wasting energy, communicating with people. The city is not too big, many people know it. So there were times when my husband was called to the table at some party to have fun with the guests.

After all these celebrations, he came to our apartment and saw me. Tired, pale due to rare walks, boring. Do I blame him for finding a replacement for me? Judgment. We were a team. Why didn’t he change his mind and try to make me happy? It is happiness that makes a woman attractive. Instead, it was replaced as a broken toy.

There was no scandal or long nights of talking about the past. No, he just came in, took out a couple of big bags and packed my stuff. He said his heart and mind told him so. We'll get all the paperwork later. Why waste time on them now? Again, he was very serious and determined. Just like the day he proposed to me.



Peels Hard times Since then began a black streak in my life. I moved in with my mom, but I lived with her only to have a place to sleep. My goal was to find myself, to find a job to live for, and finally to find some balance. With my own strength, with full dedication.

I know that some of the girls in my position would take care of their appearance, dress up and go look for another man. But it would mean exactly the same thing to me. Something I wanted to run away from. Dependence on another person. It was time to become a person not by external indicators or “inner world”. It's about action. That's what men do.



I tried to break into every more or less adequate business. Reselling things from Chinese marketplaces, creating small websites for money, cosmetics and providing cosmetic services. It wasn't me, it wasn't me. And once I heard a conversation on TV about the fact that the flower business in the percentage brings some completely unrealistic profits.

Then I decided to become a flower manufacturer. And at the same time sell all sorts of cards and other thematic crap. Then I found a good base with the merchandise. Again, we have a small town. And a lot of people I knew looked up at me like a beggar asking for money. But that didn't stop me in any way. A month's earnings taught me to look at people differently.



Now, 8 years later, I can call myself a business lady. Local scale, of course. But 4 small points around the city and one decor and floristry store bring good money. Now I have my own apartment, car, and branded clothes. New high-quality teeth and 20 kilograms also warm the soul. And it was all for myself, not for some man I secretly dream of.

Especially, it seems to me an incident that happened to me quite recently. Which is why I wanted to share my brief biography with you.

A handsome young man came into the apartment next door. Somewhere my age, about 30. Well, if you're alone, you don't have a family. New building, after all. And I got hooked, so this guy is coming to visit me. The salt he needs, the flour is not enough. Half a cup of flour, yes. What is it that you can make?

I had dinner one day and he showed up. What to do, I asked you to come in, let him eat. Well, he doesn't mind. A couple of days later, the same thing happened. And then again and again. I understand that the guy, maybe, had some thoughts about me, plans. But to come and eat the food I cooked personally is not a matter. Sometimes I could bring something too. The rules of decency are nothing but. But no.



In the end, everything ended corny. He came. I looked: there was no shy smile, but there were home pants and a stretched T-shirt. As always, I didn’t take anything with me. Well, I said it right. I want him to wait until I run to the kitchen. And a minute later, I brought him a prepared card from the local delivery service. There and the choice is richer, and the cooking is probably tastier.

At first he didn't understand, thought I was joking, or maybe flirting like that. But I closed the door. Then he clutched at the door handle like a tick. He looked me in the eye and said, ‘I had serious intentions about you. And bye-bye, enjoy your appetite alone.” And left.



I remember those words about “intentions.” My husband was serious, too. And this one wasn't kidding. It's a mystery. But nothing. Dinner at home, in your new kitchen, I'll tell you, is pretty good. No one distracts, no one interrupts. And why do I need them, serious ones? I'm having fun alone. Bon appetit.