The Giant and the GrasshopperDear Lili,The Giant and the Grasshopper by julietcaesar
Distance did not destroy us, it made us.
These days, our memories are like water slipping through clasped fingers. “You were hiding behind your mother,” you told me about the first time we met face-to-face. “No, I wasn’t, I was standing right in front of her,” I said back, and then we both laughed. Why did that matter? We met.
We blazed our path to friendship through our words. Meeting in the hallowed green passageways of deviantART was just the start. From comments, it escalated to notes, then to handwritten letters arriving in my suburban Australian letterbox. dA prints. Mix CDs. A panda painting. Even a collage of my own words, to remind me of their vulnerable truths and searing self-analysis.
“A journey is measured by friends, not miles,” says a carefully cut-out magazine clipping, along with my own prophetic words: Life lessons are not learnt by rote.
When we first talked, I was a word thief cut from the cloth of insecurity, scr