Hi, I'm glad to hear from you.
As I mentioned in my last letter, my name is Nina. I want to find a mature and wise man with whom I'll feel needed and desired. Age doesn't play a big role in communication for me, as I understand that the older a man is, the more consciously he chooses his partner. I hope we can establish a good relationship and see if we're compatible.
Let me tell you a little about myself and attach some photos so you can get a sense of me. I'm 21 years old and live in Odessa. I understand that not all men are ready to build relationships with Ukrainian women, as I've already had some experience communicating online. You can't even imagine how badly some men can treat women like me. That's why, when you suggested communicating via email, I agreed and wrote to you. Another important reason I agreed was the romance. As a child, I often read romantic stories where the main characters communicated by letter. I hope our conversation will grow into something more, and then I'll ask for your phone number myself. This year, I completed my studies at the Odessa Vocational Education Center to become a pastry chef. As a child, I often helped my mother prepare and bake various delicious dishes. My mother worked as a cook in a restaurant her entire life, and that's where she met my father. Knowing how my parents met and how my father fell in love with my mother's cooking, I decided to study to become a pastry chef. This profession isn't in great demand in my country these days. And I don't see any prospects for staying in Ukraine in the future. So, I was thinking about moving. Now that my studies have come to an end, I have no reason to stay here.
I hope you enjoyed everything I've told you about myself. And now I'm dying to read what you have to say.

Best wishes, Nina.

Hello my dear, a smile of joy hasn't left my lips since I saw your letter. I can thank you endlessly for supporting me and the fire in my heart. In fact, I dread the day when I won't see your letter. I hope that day will come only when we see each other.
I think you already understand why I talk so little about my mother and why I don't communicate with her now. When my mother started drinking after my dad died, I had to look for various part-time jobs. Since my mother was fired from her job, all she did was sit at home with some men I didn't know. But even looking for part-time jobs didn't lead to anything good, since no one wanted to hire an underage girl, especially one who was studying. I thought my mother would be able to come to her senses and think about herself and me. Last summer, I decided to come home for the summer holidays to take a break from school and work. And so when I arrived, I had hope that my mother had finally mended her ways and that everything would be okay with us. I really wanted to make peace with my mother, so I baked her favorite cake and bought flowers, as well as some groceries. As I approached the house, I was confused by the fact that my father's car wasn't parked there. It was strange because no one had ever touched it since my father died. The only person who had done anything with the car was me. It calmed me down when I washed my father's car and tidied up the interior. Sometimes I even hoped that if my father came to visit us again, he would see that I had taken care of his car. He would praise me, hug me, and pat my head, just like when we were kids. But the car was nowhere to be found. I came home already in a bad mood, as if I sensed that something was wrong. I went into the kitchen, where I saw my mother lying on the floor. She was unkempt, all swollen and bruised. I almost fell to the floor at the sight of my mother. She reacted more calmly when she saw me. She just said, Wow, look who's here. Did she really decide to check on her beloved mother? I didn't answer and immediately asked where Dad's car was. Mom said she clearly had no use for the car and that's why she gave it to her new husband. Then I asked her where her new husband was. Mom just looked at me blankly and shrugged. At that moment, my patience snapped, and I went back. Already on the bus, I thought about everything that had happened and remembered the savings account my father opened in my name. When I was very little, my dad created this account and constantly deposited money into it. Then I thought I should go to the bank and sort this out. When I was at the bank, I consulted with a bank employee and said that I wanted to close the savings account. The employee helped me fill out all the necessary paperwork and told me to go to the cashier to receive the money. I was shocked when they gave me just over 50,000 hryvnia. I knew there should have been several times more in my account, as my dad had been saving for a long time. Then I asked the bank employee to show me my bank statement. It turned out that my mother had transferred money from my account to hers, less than six months after my dad's death. When I arrived at the bank, my account should have had 1,221,340 hryvnia. But only 50,494 hryvnia remained.
I never would have thought my mother would stoop so low. She simply drank away all the money my dad had painstakingly saved. Back then, I no longer knew what was happening to the world. The world around me simply collapsed. Back then, I thought about how I almost dropped out of school just to survive and help my mom. That day, I decided my mom was no longer alive. The fact that my dad was dead didn't give her the right to act like that. It was then that I took all the money the bank gave me and started looking for a used smartphone, since the one I had no longer supported half the apps. That's when I decided to get a tattoo of a small rabbit on my left ribs to stop feeling lonely. I found it very symbolic, since my dad called me his little rabbit when I was little. A little while later, I got a cat; this happened when I was already a freshman. I found him on the street, completely beaten and thin. It seemed to me that our fates were similar. And I decided that I would try to make at least his life happy. I named him Vaska. I think in this letter I will send you photos of my tattoo and my beloved Vaska. It must have been hard for you to read this letter. And so I would like to ask your forgiveness for this, because I simply needed to talk to someone. But I think this letter will bring us much closer. I am infinitely grateful to you for coming into my life. It's a shame we didn't meet much earlier.
My dear, it seems to me that the internet undoubtedly brings people together. Otherwise, how can I explain our communication? First of all, I think about what I could tell you in real life. I imagine you standing right in front of me. I think you already understand that I have combined my work and hobbies. I mostly listen to hip-hop, but sometimes I listen to rock. My father didn't instill a love for rock in me.
I wish you a wonderful evening and may our dreams come true.
With a smile, yours, Nina.

P.S. My biggest dream right now is for us to hug.