The love is fine, when it is mutual…
Love such unpredictable. Also it would be desirable to love. After all this feeling perfectly in itself. And at the same time so it is heavy, without the answer from (its) its party. The love is fine, when it is mutual. Instead of when love to the heartache, ready to offer everything, including the life, to choke without its presence. To thirst its sight, a touch… And to see that it too love, but not you…

