Joel. 20s. Disorganized thoughts and musings.

Every day of my life, I've been waiting for you to come home. You waste your time on people who don't care, people who could never love you like I do. I see the worst of you and love it all. If it's yours, it's perfect. Come home. I'm no longer asking. You belong here with me.

I'll cut myself open and show you how every part of me is made for you. Will you look at me then? Will you finally see how I ache for you?