It Stopped

My white fingers gripped the side of the bed. Thin and shaking. Frail and fragile. Each aching, raspy breath was slow and uneasy, coming in short gasps. My brain throbbed as I recounted the harsh and careless words burned in. I wanted to scream in pain, but my extreme lack of normal amounts of energy, and dry, itchy throat wouldn’t allow it. Every inch of me was drained of energy and ached. I could only barely feel my heart dully thump inside of me. It did so slowly, barely enough to get blood to all ends of me. But it was slowing. I could feel it. Its reach growing less, and less.
Until finally,
It stopped.

-----

There are so many ways to describe it.
It's painful,
And extremely uncomfortable.
It feels like some ones pressing against my chest.
Like my ribs are holding too much weight and about to collapse.
Like I'm going deeper into water and my body can't handle the pressure.
Always wishing to be released.

Reality

Love, most would say, is a very common and often happening thing i the world today. And so, broken heart are also, sadly.
Love for most, is usually a great experience that they usually enjoy. Love i the over whelming feelings and thoughts of only ever thinking about one person. A person who you feel is the most wonderful, amazing person ever. Some one who you only want to make happy. The only person you want to ever spend time with. Some one who you think is the center of the world. Some one you feel like you could never life without.
And then you find your poor heart being horribly stabbed, often multiple times. You'd already given it away completely, so you've lost all chane of protecting it as you helplessly watch it being stabbed and squeezed to death, then be dropped and stomped on the ground, never to be touched again. Forever scarred and deformed with little hope of repair.
You scoop it back up, and despite your efforts it won't feel any better and every pulsing heart beat is an extremely painful reminder of everything you once had.
Some say it's possible to die from a broken heart. People give up on life, unable to move on from their long lost love. Slowly, the extreme depression combined with stress, loneliness, along with the unwillingness and uncare to live results in a down ward spiral of good health. Possibly leading to death.
Some don't believe one can die from a broken heart, but I do. A broken heart is a terribly consuming thing and it eats you both mentally and physically.
Death from a broken heart is a painful reality.

The Limit Does Not Exist.

He looked tired and worn out. And despite it being his own decision, she felt it was her

fault. And how he looked took a toll on her already low self esteem. She felt a million times

worse. She was alone, unloved, uncared for, useless and depressed. Not to mention hurt and

guilty, all at the same time.

“You haven’t been eating, have you?”

She looked up and met his eyes. Now he looked frustrated and bothered. The truth was she

hadn’t been. She wasn’t hungry. And never was. And as a result, she was pale, shaky, and

growing steadily unhealthy. And she was losing weight, fast.

She nodded.

He sighed, and took her hand.

“Things are complicated. But only for now.”

She looked up, her eyebrows pressing together.

“No, you make it complicated. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

He sighed.

“You say I choose to be depressed. And if that’s true than you choose to let things be

complicated too.”

He let go of her hand. She could tell he was getting even more frustrated.

“I’m so sick of this.” He whispered, “ Just choose to be happy. I have.”

The words hurt.

She shook her head, “I’ll be happy when you stop complicating things.”

Even his cool blue eyes looked angry.

“You make it complicated. You don’t have to. Take down the walls of complication you’ve

put up in your mind. The limit does not exist.”