Yesterday

Yesterday was exactly such an evening as I love. At first, mulled wine and the smell of citrus with cinnamon in my house, then along the snow-covered narrow streets of the town to a night cafe, freshly baked waffles and hot chocolate. A lot of laughter and memories with an old childhood friend. And a great feeling of gratitude.
And then long conversations in a private house that is heated by a real wood-burning stove, in which one must throw real logs that smell of pine needles, and which stands on the slope of the hill with which you can ride a sled. And thinking about the reasons, which are based most often on people's fear of remaining alone. It's just triggered by an instinctive defense mechanism that it's better to be at least with someone, but not alone. Simply during the time of our ancient cave ancestors, from which these instincts inherited and got to us, a person could not survive alone and quickly died either from hunger and cold or from claws of predators.
There are too many people around me who let their instincts and inner fears take over, who do not live with people who married or married not for love but only for fear that they will not have time "on the last bus," for fear of remaining alone , but I know that it is not worth talking about it. Because it's not my business, it's a matter of time and priorities.
And then I walked home on foot. And around it there was a smell of winter and smoke, joy and life. And all this was so good and so right that words can not be expressed.