It's Tearing Me Apart Novels & Stories

I had just broken down! Almost tearing my hair out and out of control. Almost crazy...between my sobs I poured out everything I had in my fucking heart to Melz!!! -I'm hurt Melz! I have this fucking hole in my chest that won't stop getting tighter until. ...until I couldn't breathe! I did everything to forget, to escape from this nightmare! All! But....but tonight.....I...don't....I can't pretend. ..BECAUSE I SEE THEM! I SEE THEM BEING....BEING AT ME....

Ashley POV It's been three weeks since Kevyn and I broke up. I admit that it wasn't easy for me, every day that passed I was killed by the pain but it was necessary to be strong for myself. It's hard that I used to be with him all the time but now I'm alone. But maybe that's how life really is, if you're not meant for each other, fate will make you separate even in a painful way.

Everybody knows that soul-crushing, earth-cracking, heart-shattering, feeling. That’s what I’m feeling now, I know I have no right to feel like this but I can’t help it. I did not think he would move on so quickly, I mean it hasn’t even been that long and he just shoved me aside like I’m an old pair of broken and worn-out shoes. My phone bounces from the bed as a tear run down my cheek, my mind is trapped in a maze of confusion and I can’t seem to find the exit.

Lucas yelled. Janette didn’t listen and continued tearing the picture. Lucas stared at her wide eyed. It felt like with every tear, his heart tore along with it. The tears he had fought desperately to keep back came rushing down his cheeks. His heart was aching badly like a rope had been tied around it and was being tugged at, clearly trying to rip him apart.

But it felt like it was tearing my heart apart. Alessio, I'm done waiting for you.

“I’m standing here, loving you, and it kills me to know that part of you is always somewhere else. Somewhere I can’t reach.” My throat burned. Tears threatened, but I fought them back. My anger roared quietly under the surface, sharp and bitter. “Maybe one day,” I said, voice trembling, “you’ll understand what it means to break someone gently instead of carelessly. Maybe. But I… I can’t keep doing this and pretending it’s not slowly tearing me apart.” I turned away, my back stiff, my heart raw. For the first time in weeks, I let the silence scream louder than my voice ever could.

I stared at him, the shredded pieces fluttering to the floor like fallen hope. “B-But why… why did you tear it? And what do you mean, lies?” My voice cracked as my chest tightened painfully. “Do you even realize how much courage it took for me to write that and hand it to you, and you just—” My words choked into a sob. “—you just tear it up without even reading it?!” The tears came without warning, spilling freely down my cheeks.

So close to slipping away. In the changing room, I tear off the ruined dress with trembling hands. The fabric pools at my feet like the remnants of my destroyed life. I pull on my scrubs, the material offering the smallest feel of normalcy. My reflection stares back at me; golden-amber eyes puffy and shattered, dark hair falling messily around my face, cheeks streaked with dried tears. I look broken. I ‘am’ broken. But his life is on the line, and right now, that is all that matters.

I return my gaze back to the wall. Hearing the word 'okay' for the millionth time in the day caused my throat to itch with the need to voice it at them, to tell them that it was never going to be the same. The word made my mind sick, so much so that it keeps on whirling in my head like a broken tape. My eyes start blurring and a knot forms in my throat, a burning sensation making its way into me, the flames grow bigger and bigger until a single tear escapes my eyes. The broken pieces of my heart that I was working hard to gather, only to be shattered again with the reminder...

Again. Something in my chest snapped. “I am not your case study,” I said, tears spilling now, fast and hot. “I am not your little broken thing you whisper about on the phone. I am not crazy.” She stepped back. That made it worse. I started shaking. Not dramatically. Quietly. Like something unstable trying very hard not to collapse. “I’m just tired,” I whispered. “I’m tired of being strong. I’m tired of being fine. I’m tired of disappearing so everyone else can stay comfortable.”