I met this girl about two weeks before easter. She was nice and fragile, just late twenty's. We had alot of fun together; walking in the parkways, sitting down next to each others by the lake, watching swans and other beautiful birds that had come back here from their winterplaces south somewhere. Calmly we went to my place, slowly got naked and temporizingly made love for long. I loved her appearance, her looks, sand-coloured hair, tiny behind, narrow thighs and all in her. Week or two we enjoyed ourselves, night and day, just being there, together, alive, me in her, she whispering my ear:"I love you", me fondling her soft stomach, loving her with my every cell. Then she got the phone-call, the car came to my front yard, she had to leave. Back to the re-hab center she had fled from a month ago. That's about it. Just my luck in love. I wish I'd known about her situation, I could have done something for her. But I don't think nobody could. Makes me kind of sad. I'm still loving. And I'm happy, because I could give her that tiny bit of love anyway in this goddamn cold world. Take care all you.