#Brokenheart
Quotes about brokenheart
The term "brokenheart" evokes a profound emotional experience that resonates deeply with many. It represents the intense pain and sorrow that follows the end of a cherished relationship or the loss of a loved one. This emotional state is often characterized by feelings of grief, loneliness, and vulnerability, yet it also embodies the resilience and courage required to heal and move forward. People are drawn to quotes about broken hearts because they offer solace and understanding during times of emotional turmoil. These quotes serve as a reminder that they are not alone in their suffering and that others have walked the same path and emerged stronger. They encapsulate the raw emotions of heartbreak while also providing a glimmer of hope and the promise of healing. In a world where emotions can often feel overwhelming, quotes about broken hearts offer a sense of connection and empathy, helping individuals to process their feelings and find comfort in shared experiences. Whether seeking validation, encouragement, or simply a moment of reflection, these quotes provide a powerful means of navigating the complex journey of healing a broken heart.
Where's your sister?" Chevy asks like he doesn't care about the answer, but unfortunately, he does.
Guy’s don't usually cry, but when they do, nobody can realize that what they have been going through.
I wanted to hold you until you weren't falling apart anymore, and I wanted to be the stitches that helped you heal, but I knew that I'd just infect your wounds further, so I couldn't stay.
Life and love are both fleeting, with so many afflictions tainting our minds and hearts of the not knowing what is next to come … The promises we have both made to each other. - No Promises
I slipped in and out of worlds that weren’t there. I wrote letters to fictitious characters. I was passing into catatonic states more times than not. It required a concerted amount of effort to keep myself here in this world. I was a runaway. I tried to slit my wrists. I was clinical, and I knew how to hide my condition.
My father had started counting every penny he put into me. Every dime. Every dollar. He couldn’t give me a gift or hand me food without telling me how much I took from him. How selfish I was. How much my existence cost him. I had decided that I was worth exactly a dollar and if my father had to choose between the dollar and me, he would choose the dollar. TV was far more valuable.
I’m going to kill you! I’m going to fucking kill you!”You can hear that only so many times before you believe it. During those times, I slipped into my worlds. The more I read, the more worlds came to me. I added a subterranean lake that was illogically bathed in moonlight to my list. Those worlds—that lake, the room with the onyx cats, and Ireland—they all became very real to me. Much more real than the life I lived where a monster threatened to kill me on the other side of the door.
Over the next eight years, music was the frequency I rode on to carry me through my darkest days.
It felt good being independent and I loved it. Space. That was something familiar to me. That was something I could understand. Before my first kiss, I prized my solitude and had learned to associate safety and security in isolation.