We always ended the call saying, I love you. And the response was always, Love you too. We both meant it and we both knew it. But yet the glass wall was between us. It was delicate, easy to break, too fragile, too lame to keep it as it is. Yet the lonely us never broke the wall down, never tried to grasp the happiness which was just hands away. Our capable fists only punched the delicate wall, never too strongly, they could, yet they never tried to shatter the glass down. Our tears fell silently, we both saw. Our backs faced each other from each side of the wall, crawling, paining, screaming silently. We both heard yet we pretended we didn't.

This is our story. There is a villain. It's not the glass wall. It's us.