You broke my heart.
You broke my.
You broke.
You.
And me.

These days, I'm finding it harder and harder to breathe. My chest pounds with every heart beat like you're here, again, standing in front of me, your two hands around my neck.

You may have a broken heart, but you may find someone else.

It is not the broken heart that kills, but broken pride, monseigneur.

If it's a broken part, replace it. If it's a broken arm, then brace it. If it's a broken heart, then face it.

More disturbing than hurt is love when it's wrong.