For a longer period- while in the second and third year of high-school, with my first love, Ivan. We were totally wild and free and in love and together, it was surreal how shared and understood and cherished I felt.
The second summer in Alaska, with Joro - totally inlove, again, at he end of the world, in the middle of nowhere, flying with bush pilots, being an ATV guide in the wilderness, having moose over for breakfast at our kitchen window, him getting fired by the idiotic bosses we had, me-quitting straight away, I still feel that great satisfaction I felt the moment when I threw my apron (I was helping inside the restaurant that day); then finding those hunters who needed help - riding for 16 hours to get to the cabin, that awesome fuck while the others were out and we stayed to be with the horses; how he chew my food and fed me when I couldn't eat after that bad, bad bike fall in the beginning, and all the 64 stitches on my face, and how he told me I was beautiful. Then when we got the news that I, too, was accepted to that art academy, and we were going to the Netherlands together...
Now, with my daughter, Yana, and my man, Rado - when just are together. Joke, talk with funny voices, how she laughs
and how she says "shtuutiika" and everything she says, triyng to do it correctly. When I look into his eyes -I am a cliché :) - and I feel so close to him love him beyond words
Also those moments with my friends, when I love them so much I can just as well die there and then (only now I can't die because of Yana)
During those unbelievably realistic dreams where Ivan is alive, and has been just hiding for a while, and now he's back and we kiss and will never be apart again, and he is well, and we talk and are going to watch the football game and eat pasta from the pan after we have sex