Was there something I unknowingly said that gave you the desire to witness me mature till the day we turn into ash and gray?

I grow a large swelled head birthed from a seed of your uplifting compliment, nourished by the rain of your diurnal encouragement 

Do you  need me?

Do I refresh you?

Are we fated?

Or are we doomed to soon disremember every word we've spoken to each other? 

Will I be the one to bring that end?