Summary
Truth is, I don't know why I came here. It was a stupid idea. He said twenty years, the bastard, and it's only been four. I only made it four piddly years trying (and sucking at it, let's be honest) to figure out how to make my heart feel whole when the idiot ripped out half of it. With dirty fingers. Using a kitchen spoon and a corkscrew. FAX-filled oneshot