An old friend

The day ends and he asks
'Didn't you write anything today? '
To me, that's not an inquiry
No merely a question
Not even a formality
One does to keep a friend
And I think back
Why haven't I written about this yet
About this man 
Who doesn't only read my write, 
Admires it, 
Compliments me, 
Not all the times everyone does.
Appreciates me the most, 
Not when I don't deserve.
Enjoys my oddness in public, 
Not when I try faking it
Listens to my long stupid stories, 
Always
Who is obsessed with me, 
Only when I make him feel proud.
Who reminds me who I am
Every time I forget.
Why haven't I yet talked about this to my pen
That there's someone
who was there when nobody was, 
who will be there even when
I won't be there for myself, 
He knows the inside of me, 
He cares enough to scold me
When I set the bar of my life lower.
He is eternal,
He is an old friend.