Hello my xyz. How are you today? At me all is normal. I am glad to
receive from you the letter. In the letter I wish to share with you
the sights about love. The love is such difficult feeling to which
impossible to take at least approximately exact definition. Love is
not static, has no any set form in process, musical tone or even more
likely the symphony consisting from and it is necessary to it, from
the several parts absolutely not similar against each other. One parts
are played in fast rate, others in the slow. One are full of impetuous
fun, others - light grief. But nevertheless it is the same symphony, a
single whole. The love is resonance of souls, that magic note
beginning suddenly to sound in a unison in two different people which,
maybe, and were not familiar earlier. Enough one sight, two-three
words not very well about what, and easy contact of hands is already
in general revolution in the Universe, destruction of the old world
and nascence new in a shower both. It is an easy light cloud, huge
happiness when you understand that you love and it is favourite. When
you know, that nearby there is a person who always-always will be with
you, it is enough to nestle only on it and to forget about all on
light. There is nothing better than the nobility will be dissolved in
his eyes and the most important thing and to feel, that it is mutual,
never it will be precisely impossible to tell what your favourite
person, it is necessary to search, wait and hope simply, that he too
waits for you and that you necessarily will find each other. The love
long suffers. The love does not envy, the love not to be extolled, not
to be proud. The love does not search for the, is not irritated, does
not think of harm, does not rejoice to a lie, and rejoices to true.
All covers, to all trusts, all hopes, all transfers. Dear xyz,
tell about your concept, that such love. I wish you excellent day.
Viktoriya