Our relationship was rather dramatic. Memories emerge in fragmentary episodes - as if I am leafing through an album with photographs. Here is our first meeting - traffic jams in the rain, difficult parking, wet paving stones, a long search for a place to spend the night, it rained continuously and knocked on the roof of a small hotel on the outskirts all night. You were too busy and angry that day, but I still saw something attractive in you and postponed our acquaintance until the next time. Until spring.
The next few meetings were not much different - looking into the soaked windows of countless cafes and restaurants, I thought that rain was our destiny. But in your context, mixing with the smell of coffee, chocolate and fresh baked goods, it only added an attribute of romance.
Still, we had more welcoming episodes, but then I was with friends all the time, and you like friendly companies. And this again organically weaved into your context, replete with delicious food in authentic places with live music.
And only one meeting in private - I studied every corner of yours and everything that you might want to hide ... I walked a lot that day to understand that we are different and definitely cannot be together for a long time. I left, but that first fall in love with your unique style, your creative handwriting, in your interpretation of l'arte di vivere - the art of living - remains just as bright. Even though I've been to many cities, many years later I am still drawn to date you. What is your magic, Lviv? As if the love potion I drank in that old drugstore was no coincidence.
