Novelas y relatos de Memories Of A Broken Heart Novel

He mended me, mended the broken little girl he found me but now he's breaking what's left of the shattered woman I am. He blames me for every little thing that's not right in his life and I'm sorry about it, but not all of it is my fault and not all his allegations against me are truthful. I loved him, he might think otherwise but I loved him more than I could ever love myself. I broke my walls, showed him my flaws that I hid from even myself, all the parts of me I was too scared to show the world, I did him and gave him a road map to my sanity. The very sanity that he now toys with on a daily basis, I don't understand his obsession with my past. I want it dead, I've deemed it dead because i

I kicked off my shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed, facing Yuna, ready to tell her everything about Jace and me. Ever since we broke up, I hadn't really let myself dwell on the past. But now, walking through the memories out loud, I realized how much there actually was—so many moments, both good and bad. And yeah, at certain points, it still hurt. I guess that's what they mean when they talk about the scars left by a broken heart. "Keira," Yuna said softly, her eyes wide with wonder. "Forget about Hayden for a second—your relationship with Jace was so intense. It's like something straight out of a novel."

John Green had said it right . She gasped for air for a while and tried hard to control . But then she caved in . She started crying her eyes out . Never did she think in her wildest dreams that stuff like betrayal and heartbreak would happen to her . With a heavy heart she started to ponder, "Where did I go wrong . Where did I lack?" They both were students of graphic design at the University of Cincinnati, just that he was one year senior . They met each other at a technology conclave arranged at their University . Then one

Tears soaked my pillow as I hugged it tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. Why? Why had my life turned into this? Why did the man I love keep leaving me? Why didn’t I even have a shoulder to lean on? Exhaustion finally pulled me into a restless sleep. … The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten home the night before. My eyes landed on a neatly folded note on the nightstand: "Eat something before work. I rescheduled the meeting for today’s case." The handwriting was precise and elegant, and the memories of last night came rushing back.

Meg hurried into her room, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle her crying; she felt as if a stake was driven through her chest. She leaned on the wall allowing her body to slide until it touched the floor. Sitting there, on the floor of her chamber, she experienced the tearing pain that spread through her chest, permeating her entire being. She wondered how many times a heart could be broken and still continue to beat. The pieces to which her heart had been shattered were so numerous that it became impossible to gather all the shards, each fragment being a painful memory.

Those dead emotions in the depth were now like a tickling bomb—They could explode at any minute and destroy this person I have made myself to be. The dreadful memories of my horrendous past I have kept on the front were now working as nothing. People always try to erase the recollection that hurt them but I prefer to do the opposite. Pain is what keeps us reminded of the things we wish to avoid and in my case it was love— It was the awful feeling in this damn heart beating in my chest every time my eyes took a look at the beautiful woman I broke in every way possible. She was too good to be true and that's why I ruined her. Little by little, being in control and wholly comfortable underneath

, I finally announced, letting out a deep breath, and getting out of the car. Thankfully, my living room was barely occupied by me, except for the furniture which laid around dormantly. We subconsciously sat beside the counter, deja Vu striking our chords, immediately our eyes clocked. The memories rushed into my head like a storm, and for a moment, the temptation to lean back for a bit, wanting to forget the cracks in my heart and forge on with him. What if the only one who could fix your broken heart was the one who broke it in the first place?

"Sophia, listen carefully. I don't have any feelings left for you. Not love, not even hatred. I just want to have my own life." She stared at me in disbelief, tears forming. "How is that possible? You used to love me so much. How can you not love me anymore?" Suddenly, her gaze fell on the gift box I was holding, and her expression darkened instantly. "You found someone new, didn't you? "That's why you're rejecting me. You threw away my gift, but you accepted someone else's gift?" Although it was merely a corporate gift from the company, I decided to play along. "Yes, I did. Will you leave now?"

She didn't bother to replace the dirty one with a new one. When she returned, Erin handed her the damaged ice cream without saying a word about why a chunk was missing. At that time, given the Locket family's financial status, buying not just one but a thousand, even ten thousand ice creams, would have been no issue at all. Yet, she simply didn't replace it. It was at that moment that she became acutely aware—Erin's feelings for her had long since changed. She would also never forget the look on young Wynn's face as she watched her hold that tainted ice cream—so full of malice.

Winnie covered her face and asked in agony, "Do you hate me so much? You... you wouldn't even leave me a single word." Just then, the assistant came running in again. "Ms. Lowe, we have an issue! The police are here. They want to investigate you for stealing a donor heart and wasting resources. And... a passing car recorded Mr. Morgan's death... Now, the netizens are cursing us." Winnie was quiet, feeling only a slight sense of dizziness while her ears buzzed. Her heart ached intensely just as Klose’s once had. She clutched her chest tightly, and then she passed out after a moment of dizziness.