Constant

I've seen you every day. Not that you were necessarily the light of my day or anything, but you were a constant. Someone who actually didn't seem to want. Come to think of it, I've only heard you say what you don't want. Who you don't want. This felt safe - to me, at least. Maybe a little bit of immaturity was all I needed to feel comforted by a person. My opposite. But I have never once heard you say what you wanted. The occasional material thing? Perhaps. Never have I been able to see past your facade... until you let it drop. You told me - me of all people, not even your friend - how you felt, and indirectly what you wanted. You feel invisible, is what you told me. You are lonely. Maybe that was a hint. Maybe I'm your constant. Your opposite. Unfortunately, all I seem to feel is pity. My heart is quietly moaning, but things never seem to fit. I don't want you to feel lonely, my constant.
I don't want you to be like me.