Just, by the way.

Girl: Okay, so what if I was an old woman. 88, wrinkled, very very sick, scanty gray hair and even fewer teeth?
Boy: (Thinking)
Girl: What if I was a man? Potbellied and content.
Boy: (Sniffles)
Girl: Maybe a hooker in a vibrant attire, with big full lips?
Boy: (Shrugs)
Girl: A young girl who could be so much but is nothing more than lonely?
Boy: (Knits eyebrows)
Girl: A killjoy. Just a very very bitter man?
Boy: (Shifts in his place)
Girl: What if, I was a stranger?
(Bit of a pause)
Boy: (Sighs and smiles.) You are but what you are now, and all of this in a lifetime. If this was a puzzle, I would never solve it. It is in our nature to be impregnated by multiplicity. It is, who is in the lead at a given point of time, that matters. The stranger, the hooker, the old lady or the killjoy, your essence is permeable. Dynamic like a kaleidoscope.
Your essence must be felt and rejoiced. Not killed in a grotesque attempt to capture it. Tic-toc, tic-toc and its time for another lead.