For M (who knows who she is)

you are right. we've come a long way: you, me, us. if you would believe me, there were many points along the road that i missed you, suddenly and intensely, and i tentatively tried to feel my way back. you were one of the few souls who always unquestioningly let me come and go, and accepted that it was never meant badly, but was just a fall-out of my gypsy ways. i was like the gypsy who had to roam, and you were like the the householder who let me in some nights, whenever i came calling, through the back door and sat with me in a dimly lit kitchen and shared with me a glass of wine, stories and dreams. and you made me feel safe, and i came in and talked to your dog, and your rocking chair, and even fell in love with your old man, a little. and it was warm, so i took of my heavy mask, and put my weapons down, in a corner by the fire. and took out the hidden bags of words and dreams and memories, and the precious special tobacco, saved for special occasions and never touched. thus it was with you and me. and i tried to to test the waters and see if to test if you would still let me come back, but maybe fear, or age, made my knocking fingers tremble, and you didn't hear. and i thought you were busy, with your world, and went away again. but i thought of you, always, along the way. of all the friends i made along the way, you were the one soul who always let me come and go. i always loved you, and i always will, but that's not what makes you special. i felt safe, and i felt loved.