Is this a plea?

Oh, how I long to run to you. To run and be enveloped in your arms, where I can stay and sit and talk to you. I wait for the day, and am excited for it. I want today to be that day. But it is not. It cannot be. I am too stubborn, too hurt, too proud, too broken. I can't let you touch me for I am unclean. You are like a wire brush to me, scrubbing away all the uncleanliness... and that is good. But it hurts so bad. And right now, at this moment, I feel I cannot take any more pain.
To add to this fear and termoil that is ripping at my chest, clawing at my insides, tearing apart my soul; it would destroy me. I can't allow that to happen.
However, apparently I will sit here and let it eat me from the inside... until it has taken over my whole body like an infectious disease.
I know what I must do, but as I said, it hurts too bad, and I know I can't stand up to the pain. I know that I would crumble and fall apart, and that there is no one here to help me pick up the peices.
The one bad thing about this, is that I am completly and utterly alone.
I know you are here, that you will help, but that aloneness, that longing for another human to contact with me and to help me put my life back together once I have destroyed it by handing it over...
I'm in trouble. This is a call out! A callout to you.