Do you know why they call it ‘heartbreak?’
Let me tell you why.
Because the moment love flees, your heart would harden. Your chest tightens, until it is difficult to breathe. Your lungs would then frantically grasp for air, your veins would start to clench, and for a moment it would feel as if you’ve lost your senses.
A few seconds of numbness.
Then if you listen closely, you would hear that first snap. And feel something close to a kick in the gut. Pain flows through your blood, its heat rises to the surface, singeing your skin, making you cringe. Already bruised and battered, the heart knows it doesn’t stand a chance. The strain has finally exceeded its strength. With a roar only you could hear, your heart starts to break, piece by piece, into fragments of unrecognizable shards.
Just when you think it’s over, another fissure splits open. As it burst into splinters, the pain is fresh each time. Waves of nausea would assault your insides, your mouth would taste the bitter taste of bile, and tears would pour out from your eyes.
Just as quickly as it hits you, those feelings would disappear. Their presence is replaced by quiet emptiness that is deceitful in its stillness. Because as soon as the pain subsides, another piece of your heart would break, and then the whole cycle would begin again.
Until there is nothing left but broken-off scraps... that one day would be all blown away by time.
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