I have lived a very long time.

There were winters where I watched history unfold like the wings of a raven, ever darkening, ever repeating. There were summers where I watched humans fall in love and fall out of it again before the fall's leaves turned ashen and tumbled. There were days in which I wanted nothing more to be human, and nights where I prayed to never be anything but Angelic.

I have lived a very long time.

There were friends, sometimes. An older brother with a sweet tooth would often visit, but he was a sad soul, done with fighting. A sister who had no place, who was lost but reborn. Once, even, a brother like no other. Brilliant. Beautiful. Burning. But I cannot lay claim to what I wish to know, cannot know what i wish to claim. I don't understand what I don't feel, and it hurts to think.

I have lived a very long time.

There were thoughts. Feelings. The edges of a doubt, sharpened with something I will never understand. But they were thrown aside and tossed to Earth with the Grace I once cherished, the fate I once strived for. There was knowledge for a while. There was company. But there was never humanity.

I have lived a long time, but I have never breathed a breath of mortal air. I have never woken up on a Saturday or driven miles on my own or felt the kiss of a loved one or watched Star Wars or had a dog or eaten pie or listened to Metallica or Led Zeppelin.

Until I met you.

I have lived a long time.

But the Winchester have lived longer.