Arms

I can feel them. Usually only at night or when I'm depressed, but they're always there - arms, big and strong and warm and soft, holding me and protecting me, reassuring me that everything will be alright. You see, despite what all my love interests seem to think, I was not made to walk this Earth alone, and it hurts, it pains me to know so constantly, so intimately, how I am supposed to feel. I need your arms around me, to keep the world from falling apart.