I hear the rain ... Do you hear?
- I can even see it - she whispered, pressing her hands against the windowsill. Looking around the deserted street, colored by the light of the night lights, she flung open the window so that as deep as possible, as much as possible inhale frosty and in a pleasantly invigorating freshness.
- It's a pity…
- What's a pity? - she turned sharply and, leaping, sat down on the windowsill.
- It's a pity you did not learn how not to interrupt people - he said with mild irony.
- Sorry.
- Nothing. I'm probably used to it ... It's a pity that it's not spring, it's a pity that it's not spring rain, it's only autumn, but they're so similar ... you know, spring rain is like a messenger of a new one, it helps to conceal snow so that very soon sprouts, and the autumn rain he ... he seemed to say goodbye, the cold something from him blows ... unpleasant.
- You do not like winter, do you?
- And who loves her cruel?
- Probably, those who know how to enjoy life.
He got up from the table and walked unhurriedly to the window.
- Yes ... Enjoying life is a talent that needs to learn everything, that very life, and, well, if you have time to learn - there will be time to live. After these words, he pulled out a cigarette from a pack and lit a cigarette.
- You are smoking again?
- I did not quit. Or I could not - I do not know.
- And what am I to do with you?
- Strangely enough, I do not know this either ... Maybe, love?
- Do not I love you?
- You probably love me. But, honestly, I do not see, I do not hear it.
- What is going on? - Slipping off the window sill, she lay down on the couch.
- It seems like a gulf between us. We seem to be together and at the same time apart. We are close, but alien to each other ... You have completely ceased to be interested in my life outside of you, we hardly talk ... Perhaps you will explain to me?
- This can not be known or understood. It can only be felt. As soon as love starts to yield to the rules, explanations - it's not love anymore - it's plans or partnerships that I have - I can not even choose words.
- It turns out we no longer have feelings?
He looked back, as if he expected that with these words she would rise from the sofa, however, she continued to lie and talk very calmly, playing with the shadow from her palm on the ceiling.
- No ... From what ... There are feelings, but they are not clear. And, you know, probably, they are not clear, because you and I are both - you and I - are trying to evaluate what is not possible to estimate. Feelings, love, happiness, grief, good, evil and other are fictitious, or as not explaining names to our state. Trying to evaluate, something that can not be estimated is foolish, however, we repeatedly strive to do this - we complicate our lives and ourselves are not happy about it.
- Are you okay with me? Do you sometimes get bored sometimes?
- I ... I miss - breathing out the last portion of smoke, he whispered and crushed the butt in the ashtray. To know for sure what we really want. Perhaps, then we would have bravely made the choice, without hesitation, did not hesitate, had time to do everything that brings us satisfaction. And here, in this mass of unnecessary, planted, we have to search every day for a needle in a stack of our desires.
- What's the point? Well, you know what you want, you will understand the very thing - secret - you will achieve this and only this, but you will not like it anymore ... Indeed, in fact, you can feel the warm water only if your hand is washed cold. So here - at first cold, and then enjoying the warm. And in general, what does this have to do with it? Not that you want to say that my place in your life is in doubt?