Every day I see how thin the line is between life and silence. Working in intensive care teaches not only how to save, but also how to appreciate. Words, touches, breathing. It teaches you to be silent in time. And to speak when you need to.

When you are next to death every day, you begin to feel life differently. And yourself in it. I stopped waiting for the “perfect moment” or the “right man”. I choose sincerity. Desire. Those who know how to hold a hand firmly, not only in the operating room...

Hello. This is Anastasia.I'm not going to say loud words. Just... you know, sometimes love is not fireworks and vows.It's the silence in which you feel calm next to another person.It's when even the silence between you is warm.When you suddenly start smiling just by thinking about him.And, probably, this is exactly how I feel right now.I just wanted you to know.Take care,Anastasia

I don’t wait for a miracle — I create it myself.
I don’t look for an ideal — I want the real thing.
Someone who isn’t afraid of a woman with character, emotions, and sincere desires.
I can be light, like morning laughter,
and hot, like a desire that can’t be contained.
It’s never boring with me — because I’m alive. Real.
I can inspire with words, kindle with a look, captivate with silence.
I don’t just want communication.
I want contact of souls and bodies, sincerity and fire.
I want to be with ...

My job is to be where someone is hurting.
Where hands are shaking, breathing is out of order,
where you need to act clearly and quickly,
even when there is a storm inside.

I am used to keeping myself in hand,
being strong, collected, needed.
I save others.
And then - I come here.
And I remain a woman,
who also dreams, feels, wants.

Here I am not a doctor.
Here I am just me.
Tender. Sensual. Sometimes tired.
Sometimes incredibly alive.
And if you are reading this -
perhaps you are the one who w...