I don’t know what a broken heart feels like. Or maybe I do but because I feel it too often, I am incapable to differentiate it from other mere feelings of sadness or hurting. But how can sadness be just ‘mere’? Whenever I’m sad I long for an overwhelming compassion and words that are beyond the amorous movies, beyond this mortal earth. Perhaps that’s what adds to the tragedy, wanting the things I can’t have. Expectation has been my biggest let-down.
I’m afraid of the very same things that I want. Because I don’t know if it is right to want them. Happiness is best if shared, they say. But how about it when there’s nobody to share it with?
Loving someone just got uglier.