Emberwood gravity don't mean too much to me

It takes no longer than a breath for her to crumble. The weight of every mistake she's made seems to fall upon her chest as Rosalie speaks, every sin staining her soul — and something simply breaks. A weak, ragged sob tears itself from her, slim frame trembling as she tries fruitlessly to keep a hold on her emotions. Her gaze drops, words refusing to come past the tender lump in her aching throat. It takes a moment to quiet herself, to force her gaze back to her love's seafoam eyes despite how it hurts to see the tears in them.
When I lost you — Her voice, quiet and tremulous, breaks after a moment, and she swallows hard. My whole world ended. I was nothing — I'm still nothing. I've made so many mistakes, Lie — She fights to stifle a sob as she finishes, adding haltingly: But I've never stopped thinking about you, wishing that you were here — if I'd known... She sucks in a breath, closing her eyes as a fresh wave of tears soaks into her fur and turns frigid in the winter air.
Rosalie, please, She can't stop the broken plea that pours from her. I-I can't lose you again — I need you. I — Another sob cuts her off, more hysterical than the first, and her next words are a half-sobbed jumble. I've been so alone.