I'm your constant

I was indebted to you. 

You awoke me. 

100 years of solitude. 

Just like that. 

I was awake.

Because of you.

I came up for air.

Finally.

As it turned out.
You were my air.

You were my catalyst.

You were my dream.

You guided me.
And,

I found myself again.

I found me.
 The real me.

The dormant me.

It was good to meet her again.

After so many years.

I promised that 

I’d be your constant. 

Your carefully constructed, 

perfect life was still yours. 

I would not ask to be part of it.

Unless you wished me to be.  

I desired nothing in return.

You had given me plenty.

I wanted to savor what is that we have.

I wanted to be your constant.

 

You said once: 

we'd be still be fucking.

When we are in our 50s.

I wanted that to be us.
Fucking, when we are in our 50s.

 

Think of me, then, as your constant...