Words For Sad Novelas e Histórias

She paused. Inhaling a soft breath, Crystal nodded. "Yes, sometimes literally the death of our heart occurs, but it's for a limited time. Our hearts don't stop beating even for a second. If it stopped beating, we'll be expired. When people feel sad, they'll be immersed in the word 'sad.' If we want to overcome it, all we have to do is to forget the words which make us sad, which makes us think."

“It’s okay, if you... don’t want to talk about it.” “Right now I feel…” I search for the right words “… betrayed, broken, like daggers are digging deep into my heart. I feel… weak, lost, angry and sad. But you know what, I’ve cried so many times because of that shitface and I don’t want to shed any more tears for him,” I pause, “Scott?” “Yeah?” I stop his hand from making circles on my palms.

*sob* " Why such cruelty to me God? Why? " *sob* " When there is advanced science and technology then why did it fail to cure him and then such stupid cure came into his life? Why? " *sob* " Everything is pathetic! I'll go insane! " *sob* " Neither I can see him heartbroken nor I can see him with another woman! What to do? "

I shut my eyes momentarily as more tears rolled down my cheeks. The weight of my grief crushed me, leaving me feeling like I'd never escape the abyss of sorrow. It was as if a gaping hole had been ripped through my heart, leaving a chasm that could never be filled. I felt numb, empty, and hollow, like a shell of my former self. The pain of losing Ava was a constant, gnawing ache that refused to subside. She was really gone, and the finality of that realization was suffocating.

I could no longer bring myself to believe him. "Sorry" had become a dirty word to me, one that left a bitter taste in my mouth. Every time I heard it, I felt a stab of pain in my heart. It was a word that had lost all meaning, a hollow gesture that couldn't fix what was broken. I wished I could erase it from my vocabulary, erase it from my life. I wish I could lose my hearing so I would stopped hearing that word.

My heart burns with anger and hatred, but it's no match for the crushing grief that threatens to destroy me. I weep, my body shaking with sobs. My hair falls around my face, a constant reminder of my mother's love, now lost forever. I remember her gentle touch, braiding my hair with love and care. Now, she's gone, and I'm left with nothing but pain and sorrow. The tears flow uncontrollably, a river of grief that refuses to dry up.

I continued, ruffling her hair as I said “He's just a very sad man” “A sad man?” She asked, having not heard me use such words to describe anyone to her before. “Yes baby, when someone's not happy, the person is sad . Do you understand?” I asked and she just nodded. “My toys make me happy, you think I can give Mr some of my toys to make him happy?” she asked eagerly. “I'm sorry baby but that's not how it works with adults. When adults are usually sad, I'm afraid toys don't make them happy”, I explained.

Maybe if I prayed for days I might just get what I want, eternal peace. The words echoed in the emptiness of my apartment, bouncing off the walls and coming back to mock me. Sorry wouldn't bring that man back. Sorry wouldn't wash the blood from my hands. Sorry wouldn't do anything! It was a useless word created and offered to helpless people, to try and soothen their pain. And that was the only thing I could offer right now. So I stayed there, in my own filth, rocking back and forth and muttering the word 'sorry' more times than I could remember. I didn't know how long I stayed there, crumpled against my door, crying until there were no tears left. Minutes? Hours? I wasn't sure as I lifted m

Her emotions swung like a pendulum, from moments of numbness to intense bouts of sorrow. During one particularly harrowing evening, Ava curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her face, usually full of life and warmth, was marred by the shadow of heartache. "I just feel so lost, Peyton," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "Like a part of me is missing, and I don’t know how to get it back."

“What’s up? Why the sadness?” I guess I hadn’t gotten rid of the sadness early enough, and it linked through the bond. “Just a happy-sad moment,” I answered before laughing at my reply. When Cole lifted his eyebrows at me for explanation, I linked him the memory of Cedric and I as young children Delaine’s age, where we used to have bittersweet moments. Not knowing the word, we made up our own phrase: Happy-Sad it was. After breakfast, it was time to say goodbye. My younger siblings surrounded me first.