Quoted, from a friend, whom I shall not link because I don't think she'd want me to; but anyhow:

It was a rainy day. The boy dashes into the bus stop for shelter. There, he spots a strikingly gorgeous girl in white tee and school PE shorts. Seeing her standing there, all drenched and shivering, he ponders over whether to invite her up to his home for a change of clothes. "Should I? Should I not?"

Eventually, he decides against it. But she WAS beautiful.

Upon reaching back upstairs on dryland, he watches the rain fall in torrents and the wind howl mercilessly through his window panes. Under the cover of brick and cement, he's filled with guilt. He should have asked the beautiful girl.

Hastily, he grabbed a towel and a teeshirt and crafted a note to her. Mustering up every bit of gallant and chivalry in him, he dashed down, braving the elements, just to bring her some comfort, some warmth in that cold, cold rain.

Alas, she was gone.

What a pity, for she was beautiful alright.

There was no gratification in being with him anymore. No more were the thrills, the emotional highs, the sweet tenderness... nothing. Talk was forced. Laughter, choked. They never seemed to have anything to say to each other.

Pauses were accentuated by the stupid things that came out of their mouth: comments on the weather, each others appearance, topics way past their expiry date. In a matter of minutes, they had nothing left to say. And it was back to the most instinctive reflex when a boy meets a girl in kindergarden: to make fun of her. There was hair pulling, name calling, item snatching, reciprocated by the girls whines, cries and useless threats.

After the 30-eternity long minutes, it was time to leave. On the bus ride that she obligingly waited to take back with him, they did not speak. Not that the silence was comforting. It hung above them, full with the knowledge that they had nothing more to say. All that held it there was the bond that they had shared, once upon a time.

At last, the discovery fell on her that she never sought his company. It was all driven by loneliness.

Very nice, indeed; how true, indeed.

Is loneliness a crime? No; I think it is a state of mind we all choose to be in, whether consciously or not, whether knowingly or not; and it is a state of things I have chosen to put myself into, not because I am a masochist, but because this world is a terrible place, filled with terrible people up to their necks in ill, malicious machinations and unspeakable intents; and amidst all that ugliness, loneliness, is the ultimate beauty.

I live in my world, and I'm very happy with this all. Thank you very much.