It's been ten years.
Ten years that I've been allowed to exist here.
Things here are beautiful
magnificent
fascinating and extremely exhausting.
There is so much to take in.
The rivers, crystal clear and endless.
The forests, lush and deeply green.
People are far and few between
and everything is amazing.

It's been one hundred years.
One hundred years and I still can't get enough.
Every night is filled with wonder.
Stars cover a velvety black night sky
and a softly glowing moon's rays caress the rolling hills and valleys.
Every day is full of adventure.
I feel like a small child, humbled at the bottom of a waterfall
sprayed down by cool mist
and I see her on the other side.
Grin, raise a hand in greeting, and wait for a response.

It's been only another ten years.
Now one hundred and ten years that I've been trapped here.
She is not like myself.
She can die, and unfortunately, I cannot follow.
Death would be a blessing.
Life is now a curse.
Great cities of stone and wood have risen up around me.
But I feel hollow
empty
burdened by the loss of her.

It's been one thousand years.
One thousand years that I have been exiled here.
The cities have grown and become still more populated.
Yet I am alone.
It is hopeless, pointless;
making friends, beginning even the most harmless of relationships
holds no appeal for me.
They all will die, for they are mortal.
And I shall be left, once again, with nothing but memories.
Life is now a chore, no longer a gift.

It's been ten thousand years.
Ten thousand years, and all hope is not lost.
Though the world is now entirely too full.
and city has turned to metropolis, so great are the numbers among me.
But I tell you my tale because you are like me.
No longer will my eternity be empty.
From master to servant you have turned me.
And I do not mind being vulnerable; opening up to you is
wonderful.
Things here are once more magnificent
now that I may see them through your eyes
by your side
my beautiful immortal.