Letter For Broken Hearted Novels & Stories

I stand up and walk slowly to him, I hold his hand again, resting my forehead on his back feeling his breathing, “pain doesn't define us Justin, it makes us stronger” He turns to me, his eyes dim, glossy with tears, “who broke us?” he says softly, touching my face softly. His touch was raw, deep, painful, he didn't move, he just stared at me with a sad face…I could feel it. “I have been broken a long time ago, I always say my heart doesn't even beat anymore that's how damaged I am” I chuckle wryly, “there's no point in having a heart right? Cara thinks I'm heartless, my mother thinks I lack compassion and you…you think I'm just…stock up”

He rubbed his palm across his face when the hollow started intensifying. A shuddering breath left his mouth when he tried to suppress the pain in his chest. It was not physical pain, a sudden emotional breakdown he often faces. He could almost hear her soft and melodic voice, whispering the sweet nothings that had once wrapped his heart like a warm blanket. The letter was both comforting and tormenting.

The words were firm but carried a faint tremor, as if he were struggling to hold back his emotions while writing. It read, "Anna, take these words as my presence with you. I don't know whether this letter will reach you or what you will feel when you read it. For the past two years, you have never left my mind. I know I was a jerk and broke your heart. I tried to forget and start over, but I couldn't. Nothing in the Carlione family is even a fraction as important to me as you.

I was shattering the certainty they had built their own broken hearts around. I walked back to the desk, the guilt doubling. The letters had to be simple. They had to sound like Leo Vance, the anxious, self-destructive artist, making a terrible mistake. I picked up the pen and started to write, the tip scratching heavily against the expensive paper. Letter One: To Mom Mom, Please don't panic. I am fine. This is a terrible mistake, but it is one I have to make, and I can only ask that you forgive me later.

Audrey, If you've found this letter, it must mean I'm dead... right? I'm sorry I treated you like shit. You don't deserve that. You deserve someone who will love you with all your heart and I'm sorry that I couldn't be the one. I'm sorry I broke our pact but please, please, please don't kill yourself. I have nothing left to live for. I feel like a weight on your shoulders, consistently pulling you down. I can't be that. You deserve so much more. I'm sorry I was so toxic towards you. Trust me, you'll be so much happier without me.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this? Was I supposed to burst into tears? Was I supposed to run down the private stairs, throw open his cell door, fall into his bloody arms, and pretend the last five months of hell never happened? Did he honestly think four words on a piece of paper could glue a shattered heart back together? I looked back down at the letter, my jaw clenching tight as my eyes tracked across the dark, frantic ink: “I’m sorry, Rose….

Chapter 7 Cleo Nothing hurts more than a broken heart . A broken heart that has not healed properly is like a scar that hasn't healed properly . On the surface everything looks standard; however when you go deeper you are still blue and black from the blow that you sufferd at the hands of the one who swore love , protection, and stability. If dealt with sooner the scar can heal if not it can rott and cause major problems. Imagine baking a cake that flops. Proper healing happens from the inside out. When you nurse your broken heart too long thinking that you're okay you end up discovering that the damage is worse than initially thought and its somehow spread to your soul. So not only are you

It sets you free. She prayed she and Beau and her siblings and friends stayed happy and loving in their relationships. They had been through a lot together. They broke each other yes, but they fixed those cracks with gold and it was beautiful. There was wonder in destructionand they had each other to get through the rubble of brokenness. *BREAKING YOU* *ThE end*

That is the closest to the semblance of living I will ever have. The end. MY LAST LETTER, When we were young, we thought the world was our oyster, I didnt like oysters and when I told you, you would just laugh about it and say it is just a phrase but now it isnt. The world is truly an oyster but it just turns out that I dont like the world just like I dont like oysters and I guess it isnt ours anymore because you are gone. Normally when people would write letters after their loved ones departure, it was always something of a goodbye note or something to ease the pain they feel. I discovered that my attempts at letting go sucks.

The third one, which is about Malvika, would be published after Broken Hearts. Don't forget to vote and leave positive reviews. Also, do well to share this book with your friends and the people you know. Thanks for reading. Xoxo❤️