It was so late at night, I don't even remember if it was within the time span to be considered night anymore. It was so late that it wasn't, maybe it was actually so early in the morning, but I remember that we were lying in your bed and you had your left arm underneath my neck and my face was buried in your old, white T-shirt and it was the first night we'd ever spent together. I had so many emotions flowing throughout my entire body and I just wanted to cry because they were so strong and you were right there and I knew that these emotions were caused by your presence... What would happen to them when you weren't there?

I remember fearing you leaving me, whether it was your choice or mine or fate's, but I grabbed onto that old, white T-shirt of yours and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could before pulling myself in closer to you. No matter how close I got, I wasn't close enough. Body heat radiated off of you, but my fear left me cold and you warmed me up; you started a fire in my heart and an explosion in my brain.

I must've continued to clench harder and harder onto you because your eyes shot open and you wrapped your hands around my arms—my body—and said with panic in your voice, over and over again, "What's wrong? Are you okay?" And when you saw that I was okay, you released a breath of air, "Don't go, I've got you."

I was startled at first by your quick reaction, but then it hit me. You were left behind once. You were just as scared as I. So I looked up into your dark, piercing, yet innocent eyes and kissed your chin softly, "Yes. Everything's perfect. I'm not leaving you."

I could see a wave of relief wash over you and this time, you nuzzled your face into the crook of my neck and whispered, "I'm not leaving you either." You laid back down and I stroked your cheek up and down, causing you to quickly fall back asleep. I studied your old, white T-shirt one last time, discovering two holes and a single stain. A small smile crept upon my face.

We're just a couple of messy people in a broken world, but sometimes two "wrong" people are right for each other. I can't fix him, just as he can't fix me, but we can help each other fix ourselves. And it wasn't until that very moment where I said to myself, "I love this boy."