Dearest cosmic companion, the solemn dance of celestial spheres cannot match the subtle movement of thought as it journeys from the singular point of affection across parsecs untold. In the grand confluence of spirals and stellar nurseries, what is the measure of such love but a magnitude surpassing all astrophysical scales?
As the phantom footsteps glide through this letter, endlessly tracing the invisible axis between stars and silence, consider the nature of our interstellar correspondences. Each word traverses a distance akin to epochs, an odyssey of meaning waiting to crystallize within the vacuum.
Such love is not defined by proximity, nor is it constrained by the temporal decay observed in the life cycle of quasars. Instead, it resonates with the faint imprint of memory, whispering across the left-behind cosmological notes as a haunting serenade to all cosmic romance.