I'd never warrant patience as unhelpful. With patience comes peace in mind, but how badly do I want peace in mind? Or rather, would I like to not be alone? Because misery, deep in the cave of my chest, is inevitable with patience. Patience tells me to wait for the other half of my heart but it refuses to understand how lonely the chambers within are.

And that this misery is worth enduring - it is and I will do so, if for no more than to lay beside you again.