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One thing to know that you don't love,
Another thing to know - not you.

And as the water flowed
And I was always warm,
When in the rainy night I
Looked at the window.
But year after year I have met
In the eyes of my love sorrow,
Rainy boredom dim light,
And that love changed color.

- Valery, I'm not coming back. Do you understand? Will not be back.
- Here [holds up ring] you forgot that night.
- I have not forgotten. I left.
- Have you ever thought, what life would have been if you just left?
- No.
I thought it was. A lot of times. We could just continue.
- I made the point.
- No. In life there are no points.

After all, if love really, then let go when you realize that you have fallen out of love. Although thousands of years people walk in the same circles and not going to change anything.

Once Ranevskaya asked if she was ever in love.
- Yeah, - said Ranevskaya, when I turned nineteen, I joined the provincial troupe and immediately fell in love with the first lover! So handsome he was! And I was terrible as a mortal sin. I his eyes ate, but he paid no attention to me. But one day suddenly came to me and said with his gorgeous baritone voice: "Darling, you're near the theatre room off? So wait for tonight: will you at seven o'clock."
I ran to the entrepreneur, the money in the account payday took, bought wine, food all, dressed, make-up and sit - waiting. Seven-no, eight-no, nine o'clock comes... Drunk and with a woman!
"Darling, - speaks, - take a walk somewhere a couple of hours, my dear!"
Since is not something that you'll love to look at men not can: reptiles and scoundrels!

I remember in the Park then you still asked me what I wanted to say? You've changed. Absolutely. And you know ... I'd love you.
(silence in response)
- Igor, do you care? You don't even ask me: "what, never?"
- Before we tried to play in love. Tried to be like the people.

- You didn't even ask if I'm comfortable that you'll sit here until morning?
- What, you have someone there?
- I tried, but mine is not coming out...
What?
- Do not love the man and still live with him.

Autumn.
The wind is strong.
A little load...
Thank you for your warmth, for all that thank you.

- Do you like, Warren? - I asked. Not the love that means good sex and pleasant company? I mean to-the-death-and-over-it-too.

Yes, in winter, of course, again will become warmer.
So is the space: in February - spring.
Maples turn green, in March, will Wake up the grass.
Maybe even a meeting time, preparing us.
Somewhere in the prayers in rows quietly leave soft.
Only here in the heart of the icicle. Instead of fire storm.
Well, until that autumn with a blanket of snow will cover
all that would give... Sorry that you didn't want.

I turn off the sun. After the autumn wind
the time will come to warm by another fire.
I turn off the sky. The leaves fall from the branches
if returning again to the silence, to the roots.
To me, the memory remains - gentle, like a summer.
What would be life if I had you!
How many would show, how much light would be lit...
How sad to say goodbye. Scared to silence.

Autumn. Cool. The air is obedient, quiet,
the leaves are like shooting stars, fly again with maple.
You're not with me. Not close. You hold others...
Not for me, no gesture, no smile, no words.
I was hugging my heart. Did what I could.
Warmed, waiting, whispering... almost cried!
You didn't hear it. Well... Over all the words.
But believe in happiness... Only you don't.

It is much easier to take from life handout -
everything that comes naturally, without a clear point.
Then open it is not necessary to catch the luck.
and think about what other people will think.
With love is harder... or maybe easier?
She didn't care about the scope, prohibitions, purpose.
Comes, knocking on the soul, disturbs the night,
breaks stereotypes, protection, wall...
And it is easier not to get attached, not to go
to glide over the surface of the body relate to the body...
Love is like a bookmark between the pages
read from the new clearly divides.

And sometimes I looked in the large mirror that stood in the walls, and seeing in them his own ugly reflection, sad thought that me, a man with five "no", will not love any one girl and when I grow up, I don't love no girl, and when I grow up, I don't love no woman. And when I die, if there is a hell and I'm gonna burn, I don't love no bitch, and if there is a heaven and there inspire me, not like me no Angela.