I've known you for years.
I remember noticing you as a shadow - a scheme - a fleeting cloud.
I learned to fear you like that. Nameless, changeable, unpredictable.
When you struck, I was entirely out of control.
(I can't say it wasn't fascinating.)
And then -- a flickering screen telling me your name.
(A pretty name, I think.)
And I said hello.
Now you are something of an old friend, the kind that is just a bit of a show-off and a know-it-all, one that follows me around and whispers things in my ear that I don't want to hear.
And when they come true, you are there for me. You catch me, you embrace me, you tell me -- softly, and with love -- that you were right all along.
You were. You are.
But you will have to let me go eventually, because I need to stand on my own two feet. I will say goodbye to you then.
Until that time comes; go easy on me, please.