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“Maybe we're on the wrong side of some metaphorical bridge where the grass is crusty and not grass at all, but sharp little spines of glass. I dunno, Moritz. But the one little speck of green that I get is your letters, so please never stop writing me. You got that? Never stop. Because you'll never meet me and it's the closest we can get.” — Leah Thomas
Maybe we're on the wrong side of some metaphorical bridge where the grass is crusty and not grass at all, but sharp little spines of glass. I dunno, Moritz.
But the one little speck of green that I get is your letters, so please never stop writing me.
You got that?
Never stop.
Because you'll never meet me and it's the closest we can get.