I Love You. Also It Is My Pain,

I love you. Also it is my pain, and it is such my pleasure! It is intolerable - well, the truth, Egor, - so long so hopelessly - to live without you. And - what happiness to know that you are. I have you. And I love you. I always am afraid that you here will clean me from yourself - and for ever. So it is terrible! At once - the sky of the low, next five-floor houses which have leant the elbows on roofs. Heavy, viscous - in such sky - you will not do some flying, a hand you will not wave. And in a head everyone climbs! And the imagination so obligingly palms off on me me in the most foolish light! Ridiculous, really, chuchelno-motionless, become lifeless. Smile to me, and? I absolutely love you. You are a clear head, you strong, all at you will be good, only - let and I at you will be, all right? Also give me you you will see, aja-you, and? Well give, Egorushka? No, Egor, in such dream also I can not believe: you - nearby, also it is not necessary to look on hours, and it is not necessary guilty to feel itself that five more, even about you was late ten minutes.