Novel & Cerita Quotes For Broken Hearted Man

🥀 CLARA'S POV 🥀 My heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces, each one piercing my soul like a shard of glass. The pain was overwhelming, a crushing weight that threatened to consume me. I felt empty, and hollow, like a part of me had been ripped away. Every breath I took felt like a struggle, every beat of my heart a reminder that the person I love would never love me back. My heart was broken, extremely broken, and I didn't know how to put it back together again. All I could do was hold on to the fragments, and hope that someday, somehow, I would find a way to heal.

His voice was teasing, his eyes flicking over me, lingering just a second too long. I tilted my head, my hair falling over one shoulder, my fingers tapping the counter nervously. “What do you give to women with broken hearts?” I asked, my voice catching slightly, betraying the ache I was trying to hide. He grinned, his eyes softening, but there was a playful edge to it. “Broken heart? You don’t look like that kind of woman.” He raised an eyebrow, his voice louder to cut through the music, but still warm, almost too smooth. "Um... you don’t look like someone who got left—you look like the one doing the damage.”

She wiped her tears away, her eyes red as she spoke. "Westley, do you know what that feels like? To offer a warm heart to the person you like, only for them to crush it into the mud beneath their feet. And that's not enough. They throw that mud and the broken heart into the lake, burying it deep under the ice. Westley, I only have one heart, and you destroyed it with your own hands." The man's tall figure trembled, even stumbling a step back. His pale face grew even more sickly, and he opened his mouth to explain, only to find himself at a loss for words.

" Stop this Dylan please stop this." "You can't mend a broken glass. I am broken beyond repair." You destroyed me the day I learned to love you. To feel something for you. Then how can you expect me to give you that piece of mine once again when you already broke it with your own hands. _______________________________________ Next will be updated soon. Do like and give feedback. Spread the purple heart.

he says, devastation on his face. I can’t help but laugh, saying, “Well, if this isn’t karma then I must be James Dean.” Mason’s not impressed with my attempt at a joke. “Dude, I’m pouring my heart out to you, and instead you mock me.” “Mr Lover Man, have you forgotten about the broken hearts you’ve left during your path of destruction? I’ve had complete strangers calling me in the middle of the night, begging me to tell them where you are. Now that you’ve had a taste of your own medicine, you can’t stomach it?” I say.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I can't take the weight of your love, I just can't. I'm getting lost on you, I feel like you'll be safe in the hands of another. I'm beyond damaged, I'm broken to the core. There are times I've felt maybe I'm not broken, just bent, but now, now I know I'm broken. Despite knowing broken things still work, I also know there's an expiry date. Broken things work till they don't."

His left arm was drooping weakly in between his thighs. Ansel’s face had no spirit. His eyes looked sadly at nowhere. His mouth opened a little. His cheeks looked thin. His obsession to have Qeiza made him look like a mad man. Just look at his appearance! He let some of his shirt buttons open in the midst of the cold weather. “Experiencing a broken heart is really like you’re dead,” said the man. He looked like he was talking to himself. He didn’t look at Ansel but far ahead, at the night sky that was getting darker.

“Why did you…” “That’s nothing,” he coldly told me. “It’s not that you’ll read it anyway.” “But I…” I couldn’t be able to finish my sentence. “Tell me.” I bit my bottom lip while gripping my books on my arms tightly like I’m getting a support from it. “It’s not that you’ll understand it anyway.” I uttered, mimicking what he said a while ago. When two broken hearts meet, they find their missing part in each other. I often read that quote. But whenever I tried to believe it, I just couldn’t.

I waited a few seconds, thinking he hung up the call because he was silent. "Take care of her." “Huh? Who?” “Take care of the woman I loved.” “Man–” “Don't worry. I accept it. I'll leave her to you. Love her, more than I love her. Thanks for being my friend, man. This is something I won't forget, meeting you guys.” "Man? What are you talking about? Did you drink?”

“Honestly, you reminded me of when I lost my wife. I couldn’t…leave you like that.” My heart fell and I looked around, multiple people were standing around, some with tears in their eyes. I didn’t realize how utterly broken I sounded, but apparently it was enough to stop people in their tracks. A cab pulled over and the man leaned in, speaking with the cab driver for a minute.