There was once a young lady who craved for connection.

- My so little addressed romanticism is undeniable, and I am afraid it has made quite a fool out of me. Still, I am not sorry for it. I am much sorrier for you. At least for my sake I may affirm without fear of arrogance that I have been steadily honest to myself if not to everyone around me, and that I also raised all the necessary courage to endure the feelings which sprung so fiercely on my heart. If we could only but say half as much of yourself. If you had only but owned up your so-called incomparable feelings for me before I was able to perceive whom you truly were through much less bewitched eyes. But now it is done for and I dare say there is no coming back from it. Should I be glad to be spared of the late discovery of your faulty character or else mourn upon the fact that I will die without acknowledging the taste of our first kiss under the sweet influence of such deep emotions as mine were?

And before he could speak, she concluded:

- But please, dear sir, do not go through the trouble of responding such an explicit discourse. Unless, of course, you intend simply to amuse me, for I can assure you that I have never cared less for your opinions than I do now.