I knew a boy who was very sad because he was lonely. He was so lonely that the loneliness often made him shiver, as if he was out naked in the bitter cold. Often in his loneliness, he would ask himself this question. 'What is the point of living? Nobody cares; and a certain person whom I admire very much cares not for me either'. He would sigh each night, wishing he had the strength to take himself away into that other dimension where all is silent. But each morning he wakes up alone, and do all things alone. And even though he works and smiles, yet it was all a cover to hide his deep dark loneliness. Nothing could fill it but one thing, but that thing was never going to be. The boy is indeed a very miserable boy, and he fears, no, he knows that he will spend the new year all alone. Such a terrible thing that is, that I told him at once to come and spend it with me. With a great sigh he accepted but said that he would not be a great company, because his heart will be somewhere else. The boy confessed that his heart was always at that somewhere, or rather with that someone.