Richard
The brown-haired man was walking down the street with his hands in his pockets as he looked up here and there from the snowy sidewalk to see the happy families hiding behind the windows of the houses. It was Christmas Eve and he was wandering outside while the others enjoyed spending time with his family. Richard had no family. Not a real one, though there was a time when he thought the opposite. It wasn't until he started these walks on a day that no one should spend alone to find that he was just naively making it all up. That he just danced the way Mary whistled. It would seem to him that it wasn't even his life. It was as if he were standing in the background watching the film about the life of a man who was just an empty box. One woman's tool. And why? Because the fool fell in love.
When love settles in the head, reason goes away. He never thought how true these words were. When he dreamed of love when he was young, he imagined it completely differently. He saw it all too rosy. Beautiful, funny, and smart woman. Maybe a small family house and eventually the children. Well, he fell in love with a beautiful and clever woman, but she didn't bring anything else that he dreamed of. She didn't believe in love. He didn't know how it was possible. When he first met her, he thought something must have happened to her as a child. Something terrible, so she turned her up to love, but as time went on, he find out her childhood was exactly the same as his. She just didn't recognize the feeling of love. She considered it a weakness, and as Richard knew now, she was right. It was his greatest weakness, and he hated himself for not being able to get out of it.
Love is good for those who are able to handle that mental overload. And he wasn't. He may have been smart, but he was weak. He's always been. This was proved by the fact that he stopped at the same place every year. On the bridge under which the raging river swirled. And every year he imagined jumping down and finally freeing himself. That he will finally be free. It was the only act he could have completed in his hands, but he never did it. He didn't have the strength to do it. He kept telling himself that he could still do some good, but all he did was evil. He thought he would be free when Mary died. That the love he felt would go away with her. But Mary had power over him, even though she was no longer there. Maybe the true name of love should be captive.
"I never understood why you do all this when your moral convictions are somewhere else," the brunette said next to him. "What did Shakespeare say? The feeling is blind, and blind love longs for darkness. ”
"How did you find me?" He asked, ignoring her words.
"It's not hard when you come here every year," she grinned. "Someone has to watch over you so you don't do something stupid," she added, staring down at the river.
"As if it mattered," he snorted. He dared say he knew Mary very well. He liked her because of her brown eyes. He loved her even though she was cold. He liked her because she was beautiful. He loved her even though she could take someone's life with a calm heart. He loved her in her true form. He loved her, but even so, she was the worst person he had ever known. At least that's what he thought. A few years ago, he found that the girl standing next to him was even worse.
"It matters to me," she whispered so softly that Richard couldn't tell if he could feel fear in her voice or not. But probably not. This girl didn't know any emotions.
"Would it kill you if you showed me at least a little respect and didn't lie to me?"
"I'm not lying. She never loved you. You let her use you, but it's different here, isn't it? We care about each other," she said in a level voice, but no hint of emotion could be heard.
"You don't have to play anything here. It's exactly the same as with her. You use me because you know I won't tell you no. You're not better than her. You're much worse and I know you know about yourself. That you're proud of it. I'm sorry I couldn't at least save you from her when I didn't save myself," he snapped, walking away, not waiting for her next words. Of course, he loved her! It was a different kind of love, but it was love. And even in this case, it was his weakness.