I was always kind of a mess, but you were always there to piece me back together. I spent days, followed by nights, with my face firmly pressed to my pillow. You would always hold me, kissing my head softly. Telling me that it'd be okay, and that you'd never let go.
I never understood why you'd waste you're time on a broken bolt like me. I couldn't hold anything together, not even myself. I never really was religious, but now, now I find myself begging god every day. Begging him to bring you back, and take me instead.