Hiralious

Once in a land not so far away there lived a woman who was known as 'the stone-hearted'. It was not her unkindness or her selfish demeanor that made her popular for this title but there was a reason far more surprising, and far more uspetting. She was immune from love. She referred to the euphoria of young lovers as 'elation' that would soon meet its fate : 'deflation'. This elation took lovers to an imagined higher form of existence in which they did not need to explain themselves to anyone and were convinced of having found their world in each other. Yet with these momentous leaps of joy there was always a significant risk of hitting the hard ground. Each lover found himself in the stranded position of a mid-way fall half-way up into the leap. The stone-hearted despite her apparent disregard for love, spoke in a way that would convince the listener of the sincerity she meant it with. All around her she was surrounded by people who were trying to connect the dots in their lives and trying to find love and affirmation in another person. Yet the stone hearted was of the belief that love belonged to everyone. That it could not be seen or expected from a single person, that the hope that one person could fulfill all the gaps and holes in your soul was an unrealistic one. Apart from her views the stone hearted was also famous for her remarkable charm. She had belief, the prerequisite of the task of convincing and she had yet another tool , beauty. The ultimate convincing tool. As the word about her spread , she found herself to be the receiver of many women and men who found her to be correct after deep exploration of themselves and their loved ones. Their evening congregations came to be a ritual they all sought their peace in. There were people who the stone hearted had never known but had heard of . And there were those the stories of whose love she had seen unfolding before her very own eyes, and there were those who had mocked her in their happiness. They all confessed to her that during the time they were in love, nothing else would make sense. that the grief of others could not melt their heart. That the happiness of others could not be envied.  That the cynicism or disbelief of those surrounding them only served to make them even more sure of their feelings. Some of them were disappointed that their lover blew the whistle on them, others found it strange that they themselves had blown the whistle. But nothing matched the wonder of those who hadn't heard the sound of a whistle announcing the end, or the sound of a broken heart on either side as they parted their ways. All of them however insisted that her theory of 'elation' was in fact, the truth of love. It was how love worked. All around her as she ran her eyes, she saw only proof. 
She had no need to explain herself to anyone anymore. She was accepted and she rejoiced this acceptance with her calm grace intact. There in the crowd was a man who would never speak about himself as the people around him related their stories. He never cried while the others cried and he always smiled the most heart-felt smiles. Days turned into months and people kept coming, each with his own unique experience to relate and they all always agreed on the phases of love. Then one day the storms came and rain fell down heard. Only a few people could make it to the congregation that day. As the stone hearted claimed her seat in the center of the crowd, the few people on the spot realized they had all related their stories to the crowd already. As an unspoken rule, there was always a new story to be told so the eyes of the crowd rested on the man who never spoke. On being asked who he loved, and why he loved, and what he wished at that point. He stood up, srurrounded by a halo of grace. In a voice that betrayed deep sincerity he spoke ' I have always been of the view that love belongs to everyone. It's not right to expect it from a single person and so , I have to disappoint you by telling I have no account of any betrayal or surprises in the journey of my life'. Then lifting his eyes to the stone-hearted he spoke ' I wish your title was in synchrony with your unusual generosity'
As the winds howled behind them and the rain fell hard, the stone hearted looked back into the eyes of the man.
The next day and in the months that followed there were no congregations and the despair of the crowd grew , only to dim out as embers of a strong fire that once was their anger on their ultimate betrayal.
 The stone-hearted  had not found any reason to explain herself as she ran away into the world with the man who never spoke.