Damaged

I'm effed up. A hot mess. Haunted. Damaged. But he doesn't think so. He thinks my imperfectness is what makes me perfect. He loves my flaws. My quirks. My scars. He wants to protect me. See me happy. Make me alive. He wants to give me everything I need, no matter how twisted and wrong and depraved. He needs me to need him. Which makes me wonder... Is he damaged, too?