I Love You. And, Please, When I Do

I love you. And, please, when I do not tell it to you, when I do not write to you some days, do not hope that it can pass, go out, be dissolved in this life - far from you. Unless it is possible to become angry about me? At all is not present! What can be from me demand: I live in conditions absolutely unnatural, I do not care for you, I do not cherish. It that normal conditions for a life? This same if whom natatorial - on a land to throw out, flying - to any mole-badger in a mink to place? I love you. And you my sun. And still light in a window. And on you this world has converged a wedge. And still - that there still was? All the same I believe that to you - willows your human cares, and in mutual relations not with all mankind, and with concrete relatives, the droplet of my warmth would be not so superfluous, even - necessary. And I - from this, half-received. JA-not that person who is capable to amaze your imagination, to pull at once to itself (as it was at me - with you). But I have other advantage: I love you.