What is troubling you? Are you too worried and exhausted by your work? Sometimes, when I see you, I see a pensiveness weighing down on your eyes, your gaze turned towards the cold marble floor, and a soft disquiet masking the usual sprightliness of your smile. I wish so dearly to talk to you about it; to try at least to lighten your mood, to hear of your burdens. But I know that I am in no place to offer such help. To you, I might as well be a stranger. Where once it felt as if a friendship were blossoming, now, the young bud has withered, and I am finding it so terribly difficult to revive it. I am afraid, you see, that if I tried again to restore this enterprise, it will fail the same way it did before. And I do not know how many more times this can happen before the air between us becomes unbearable.