"Letters to Eliza" is a tale of love. Letter No. 9

Eliza,
It seems to me that I know all your lovers by sight - those that were, and those that you just have to meet. I see their wrinkled coat on a hook in the hallway. Their steps are firm and ruthless, they never return to you. Your lovers are not one of those who write tearful letters and breathe into a tube, they have nothing to explain to you, and you are almost used to the fact that there may never be answers to questions. They just leave without slamming the door. They will be replaced by others, will hang their coat on a hook, will talk or listen for a long time without looking at you. And it will smell like autumn, the janitor will tirelessly burn the leaves under the window, the fog will never disappear, and you will constantly stand at the open window. You will learn to love with your fingers, as if you do not know a single language, to breathe to the beat, to hide tears. Each time you will know that this one, sitting opposite with the scent of autumn and the look of a hunted beast, will never be yours. But why do you need all this, Eliza? Do you choose all this? Or do you want to live one of those matte films where everything is predictably sad? Don't you want to cuddle up, tremble with your whole body towards someone? And so that your fingers dissolve and warm in you? There is no need to save those who are not seeking salvation, Eliza. It is more important to love those who are looking for love.

Anastasia Volkhovskaya