The day, she met him, the moon was not visible on the sky. None took care about it anymore. Late in the night all cats are black. He was late and she did not wonder. They have this thing in common. Half past ten, she came back home and her mother called. As usually, she asked why the daughter never calls her. He knew why she did not call him. That was just too obvious. She knew, he want to love her soon, as soon as possible. She knew, that love is something else. She had the same problem with defining the difference between love and sex sometimes. He gave her good sex and had a lot of respect for her, so did she. She did not love him but enjoyed his company. A lot. I should add at this point, that they were both confused about their gender and nationality. They were both rebellious and willing to change the world. They were kind. Much too kind for this world. He was angry about the human kind. She supported the social idea and tended to socialism. In her opinion it was in. They exchange energy, but mostly stay away from each other. They only talk about the revolution, smoke, had sex and long talks. None take much care of the other. She enjoyed his art like a little child. That pleased his ego. He found her cool, then sweet and then he stopped to talk. Then they imitate love for a week or two. They celebrate together the independence day of Ukraine one day after the official date.
Love is something else, but we don't believe in God anyways. We believe in people dying because of overconsumption. This is as ridiculous as martyr sentenced to be holy.