The Oxford languages dictionary says a broken heart is used in reference to a state of extreme grief or sorrow, typically caused by the death of a loved one or the ending of a romantic relationship.
To be heartbroken is to be suffering with overwhelming distress.
Wikipedia suggests that a broken heart (also known as heart broken or heart ache) is a metaphor for the intense emotional stress or pain one feels at experiencing great and deep longing. The concept is cross-cultural, often cited with reference to unreciprocated or lost love.
There are over eight billion people in the world and, if asked, each and every one would describe the
feeling of a broken heart differently. For some it’s simply a dull ache that lasts merely seconds before subsiding, for others it’s a piercing, crushing sensation that’s chronic and looming over them for days.
But I don’t really give a shit about the correct definitions or how others might describe how it feels because for me, living with a broken heart is constantly feeling like I’m treading water, battling against the tide, and getting nowhere. It’s drowning in the very air that I breathe, slowly sinking deeper into the memories surrounding me, the good, bad and the fucking ugly.
It’s waking up to dark and cold days filled with endless hours staring at closed doors, hoping for her to come crashing through them. Praying to disappear into oblivion just to escape the pain of my heart stopping whenever I hear her name.
It’s feeling the burden of her, almost too much to carry, the weight pushing me deeper into the hollows of myself.
It’s feeling like the ghost of her is taking aim on my heart every second of every day, lighting the flame of her and burning me from the inside out. Realising that my skin isn’t bulletproof as the sharp cruel, torturous needles of loneliness penetrate my flesh and paralyse my mind with the desperation of needing her, of losing her.
It's being sent into a never-ending tailspin, losing all sense of control, sinking into the dark recesses of myself, not knowing how to do it again... if I can do it again.
It’s the constant howling of the beast inside me, his pained screams echoing within my soul and counting the time she has been gone down to the very second.
It’s choosing to implode in all my hurt than feeling nothing at all.
Being heartbroken is being without her.
It's being left for dead.
Genre: Romantic Suspense
To be heartbroken is to be suffering with overwhelming distress.
Wikipedia suggests that a broken heart (also known as heart broken or heart ache) is a metaphor for the intense emotional stress or pain one feels at experiencing great and deep longing. The concept is cross-cultural, often cited with reference to unreciprocated or lost love.
There are over eight billion people in the world and, if asked, each and every one would describe the
feeling of a broken heart differently. For some it’s simply a dull ache that lasts merely seconds before subsiding, for others it’s a piercing, crushing sensation that’s chronic and looming over them for days.
But I don’t really give a shit about the correct definitions or how others might describe how it feels because for me, living with a broken heart is constantly feeling like I’m treading water, battling against the tide, and getting nowhere. It’s drowning in the very air that I breathe, slowly sinking deeper into the memories surrounding me, the good, bad and the fucking ugly.
It’s waking up to dark and cold days filled with endless hours staring at closed doors, hoping for her to come crashing through them. Praying to disappear into oblivion just to escape the pain of my heart stopping whenever I hear her name.
It’s feeling the burden of her, almost too much to carry, the weight pushing me deeper into the hollows of myself.
It’s feeling like the ghost of her is taking aim on my heart every second of every day, lighting the flame of her and burning me from the inside out. Realising that my skin isn’t bulletproof as the sharp cruel, torturous needles of loneliness penetrate my flesh and paralyse my mind with the desperation of needing her, of losing her.
It's being sent into a never-ending tailspin, losing all sense of control, sinking into the dark recesses of myself, not knowing how to do it again... if I can do it again.
It’s the constant howling of the beast inside me, his pained screams echoing within my soul and counting the time she has been gone down to the very second.
It’s choosing to implode in all my hurt than feeling nothing at all.
Being heartbroken is being without her.
It's being left for dead.
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Used availability for LouLou Fox's Running From Ghosts