Sergei Lukyanenko. Cold shore (№ 17616)

Love is not the pearl, hiding on the seabed among the thousands of empty shells. Not a spring in the desert that gives a tiny oasis, and at any moment can disappear under the dunes. We live in a world full of love! But people searching for love like looking for pearls in the seabed - choking, ruining countless barren shell, disappearing forever beneath the waves. And if you find one, consider yourself chained to love like a dying of thirst traveler that came upon an oasis - and is afraid to make it at least a step. It seems that you have found a gem and they give love a stranglehold like pearl who dies without the warmth of your hands! They think they have found a spring among the sand, and they spend days and nights on guard, rake the dunes and close the spring with his body from the smallest breeze! They think it's worth a look - the pearls disappear into someone else's pocket, the spring will be covered with sand, and they will again be alone... But love hates watchful gaze. You can plant a rose in your garden and fawning over her, fending off the tracks and covering from the rain. And the rose will grow for you, but we need only to step to the side and she dies!
But for some reason, when last year I planted a dozen roses and left them unattended, they withered away by mid-summer.
- Oh, yeah. Unattended - scattered pearls dust, withered flower and love dies. In fact all you do is oversee or care. Our world is full of love, and we fight for it as though love may not be enough at all. Not be enough - although it only need to find. Just have to see!