There was something painfully subtle about him. something tender, vulnerable and angelically vulnerable, he was beautiful and from that alone he was pitied to tears.

But he was from the resistance. and it also became clear at once — he was from that environment of hardened in work and hard youth, but at the same time very naive creatures who persistently talk about fighting, but are not able to hurt anyone. At least he was charming.

What did he have for you? Certainly not love. To call it love would be a ridiculous mistake, because love is biased. Love is demanding, cruel and selfish. Another thing is friendship, which has never been close, but is short and bright, flashing like a comet.

Could only wonder how was enough fervor to worry about you. Such a cold, inaccessible, demanding and giving nothing, dear and sweet friend. But the immeasurable heart was ready, like a puppy, to rejoice at anything. You were like snow. Especially your hands. It was one of the main, one of the most painful details of your existence.

You were sitting, drinking coffee and could accidentally touch each other and be satisfied that this is between them. Anything could destroy a tiny idyll, and yet this ghostly haze was sometimes clearer and clearer than the harsh light of the coming everyday life. A haze of tenderness hovered over the table along with the smoke of cigarettes, but in its transience was its charm and its eternity, purified by consciousness and carefully carried to the bottom of the soul in all its few evidences, features and forms, as a remedy for the melancholy of recent years.

But still, no matter how much they talked on equal terms and no matter how kind and open you were, there was still an icy abyss implicit and unintentionally in each of your remarks.

No one could have overcome this gap — you were smart and this saved you and cut you off from society. albert always got lost at the height, listened and somehow fell silent, gave in to you, because there was nothing else to do in your presence.