In a world where people are hindered by their subconscious, obeying every word their mind has to offer. In this world where humans are completely and utterly controlled by this feeling, this emotion, this strong desire to be somebody, to find their "perfect" other half.

You, you keep telling yourself not to look for your "other half", simply because you are not half but whole already on your own. Though subconsciously you crave the presence of another, someone who together with you can set the world alight. Your soul can survive on it's own, and it's your constant struggle, your denial of needing someone else to complete you: that's what's breaking you down.

Every human has experienced the same feelings atleast once. Every human has the same tendencies and desires. For example every human being craves love. It's a tendency: human nature; either to experience being loved by a mother or father, brother or sister, friend, etc. But every human has craved to be loved by someone in a more intense, passionate relationship. It's human nature. It's in our nature to crave someone whose not required to love you, but does and will anyway. It's that invalidated, unnecessary quality to falling in love with someone that makes it all the more necessary and a vital event to attain true happiness in life.

The wind pierced your ears, the ocean waves crashed against the shore splashing your face with burning acrid salt water. Your lips were becoming chapped, your hair tangled. Your fingers became cold and dry, you shoved them into your pockets in a desperate attempt to warm them up but to your dismay did nothing to aid you.

And he watched, from only a small distance behind you. His magenta sharingan burning a whole through your body. He watched as your strawberry blonde locks were assaulted by the wind, he saw your composure diminish with each passing second. Despair contracted his heart, he simply couldn't take it. He couldn't see you feeling so alone, so heartbroken and wailing with the wind. The boy who felt nothing for no one, suddenly felt everything- for you.

A scream pierced the wind, your scream. A frequency laced with sorrow and pity and dejection and desolation. It was a cry for help, a cry administering that you couldn't be alone.

You dropped to your knees, your fingers gripping your jacket so tight. He emerged from his cover, he had to ask you what was wrong but he already knew.

You noticed his presence right away, and suddenly so many memories came rushing back, flooding your mind with a sea of emotions and a tempest of lost hope. When you saw his face you were reminded that pieces of you never existed are filled with the memory of him, he left you. Your eyes pierced his face, bloodshot and irritated eyes he could see the blood vessels pop with your tension, red fireworks painting a pristine white canvas.

"My hands are numb and nobody's asking me if I'm okay. And maybe that's a sign that I need to start asking myself that question. But sometimes I just need someone to show they care because it gets lonely here in the dark corners of my brain and I don't want to feel this lost and broken anymore- please hold me close and show me that I am more than I feel."

Kakashi dropped to his knees, his metallic gunmetal gray hair hanging over his eyes. His arms embraced your shoulders and he felt them shake with every sob that wracked your body from the inside and out. Your eyes were the same color as the ocean, stormy blue and anything but calm. The salty tears that cascaded down your cheeks burned his face as he rested his forehead against yours.

You were the love he left and he left you because he didn't understand you. Though finally it began to make sense. You were the epitome of what he was on the inside. And he hated that. He hated the fact that if you were hurt you would vocalize it and show it in hopes of finding consolation and solace with your demons. Though he never realized until now: when he consoled you he consoled himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," was all he managed to say.

You didn't care about apologies, all you wanted was for him to hold your hands, warm your fingers and kiss the tears away.

"I want your fingers to linger on my skin. I don't care if your fingernails dig so deep they get tangled in my veins. And I won't mind if you tear out my flesh with your bare hands. When the bleeding won't stop and I struggle to catch my breath, I'll thank you for holding my hand."

His fingers gently intertwined with your yours, the pressure turning them black and blue. You leaned into him, forcing your burden upon his soul. His grip was fiery hot, you thought your fingernail polish would melt upon the sand in hibiscus trails of tears. His feet dug into the sand and he pressed his lips against yours. You tasted like the salty air on a sunny beach day, your tongue like vodka. He couldn't help but get drunk off your intoxication, an indication that he was all you need.

I'll thank you for holding my hand.