I wanted to get away from him before he led me into talking, before he made me feel angry, or grieved, or jealous all over again. I did not want to feel anything for him, not desire, not resentment. I wanted to be cold to him, so I turned on my heel and started to walk away.
It is our wounds that create in us a desire to reach for miracles. The fulfillment of such miracles depends on whether we let our wounds pull us down or lift us up towards our dreams.
The actuality that the heart does not want to feel, doesn’t negate the certitude that it once felt and will still feel.
I am heartbroken, but I have been heartbroken before, and this might be the best for which I can hope.
Get up, work out, eat well, enjoy the moment, be present and show up for people who need your love; family, friends, less privileged, your followers. Appreciate love and remember, the journey is more important than the destination.
Si he dejado una herida en tu interior, esta herida no es solo tuya, tambien es mia. Ai que no me odies por ello. Soy un ser imperfecto. Mucho mas imperfecto de lo que tu crees
He remained heartbroken, which meant one of two things: either his love was pure and true and earthshakingly significant; or he was addicted to feeling forlorn, he liked being heartbroken.
When you lose someone, you get used to living day to day without them. But you’ll never get used to the “10 second heartbreak.
Raw love, like raw heartache, could blindside you.
No one ever told me how sorrow traumatizes your heart, making you think it will never beat exactly the same way again. No one ever told me how grief feels like a wet sock in my mouth. One I’m forced to breathe through, thinking that with each breath I’ll come up short and suffocate.