I love you of friendship, not consolation.

His words seem to be urging violently and persistently for something that is not to be have.
After a few days my thoughts draw my back from his words and her scene and the words she’d said had hovered around my disappointment once more.
How could I have forgotten the memory of her face as I had stared at her -I was petrified. Her face, pale, her fingers jolting unconsciously to the motions of the run. Sick, she was.

-A pity, a pity, a pity- his accent would come out leaning in the ordinary accent of Trieste, urging against my ears and then fall into my thoughts, in a persistent mumbling.

Maybe one thinks we must re-interpret some events correctly in order to conclude something about the essence of another person. To me, friendship is not something to be interpreted. She might have said those things to me because she was upset. She needed attention, he said.
I feel friendship as a shared joy, shared sadness, shared ...anything; it’s not compassion that makes friends.

-A pity, a pity, a pity- the words soars clearly in my mind and a precise feeling of disappointment comes back clear as the explanation she had given me after me feeling bad.

--you should be consoling me now. Why don’t you console me? I’d had done it once for you now it’s your turn--

-A pity, a pity, a pity-
-A pity?
-You don’t go out anymore together. It’s a pity.
-She wants to be consoled. This is not friendship. I do not console friends, I love them of unjustified love, I love them of friendship.
-you should understand, she had been hurt by that guy
-Being hurt is not a reason to hurt somebody else, somebody who loves you.
-she was looking for somebody’s attention; she’s hurt you because she needed you.
-Listen, we’ve suffered enough and for sick reasons. We are aware what pain is and it regulates us, it’s taught us we need love and we need to give love, not consolation.
-But you are you, Eva.

One loves and gives love not because of what it achieves or accomplishes or because of its capability to get some proposed end; one loves only because of its willing. Love is good, one loves, one chooses love of itself. Love is to be esteemed incomparably higher than anything which could be brought about by it in favor of any preference. Love  is mutual experience between people and within friendship there are no roles, neither lover and a beloved, just human beings that are born free, equal in dignity and rights who choose each other and who love each other.