"I have a problem."
"You always were a worrier."
"Don't you want to know what it is?"
"Not if it's going to worry me as well."
"That's precisely why you should know it."
"I really think I'll pass."
this time it's a really big deal."
"Oh for the love of- All right. All right. You win. What is it?"
"What did you think the first time you met me?"
"That's not a problem, that's a question."
"How am I supposed to answer it exactly?"
"I don't know if your mother explained this to you, but all you have to do is open your mouth and words-"
"Shut it, smart ass."
"Then answer the question."
"I thought you were beautiful."
"See, now that's impossible."
"And why is that?"
"Because the first time you met me, it was online."
"It wasn't your face I was calling beautiful. It was your anonymity in your words."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that in the vast abyss of the seas that form a web of people, you were the one who sat alone in a life broken enough, damaged enough to start sculpting words from air. You threw it into the ocean, a question in a bottle and that question found me. It made me think about things I had forgotten long ago."
"You give me too much credit."
"And you don't give yourself enough."
what was the question?"
"Why is it that all things that are so beautiful
are always so lonely?"
you ever find the answer?"
"Won't you tell me?"
"What is beautiful is meant to be lonely, or else it loses what is truly poignant in its soul."