Love built on pain-the kind that lasts: whatever you love can be taken away from us at any moment but the loss of what we love belongs to us forever.
Louise DoughtyShe took the posters downtown that afternoon. She filled a rolling suitcase with them ... she took a stapler. And a box of staples. And hope. I think of those things. The paper, the stapler, the staples, the tape, the hope. It makes me sick. Physical things. Forty years of loving someone becomes staples and hop.
Jonathan Safran FoerTags: loss death hope grief stapler staples
I could feel my insides sink. My knees too. So I sat on the ground, against the wall, letting it support me. I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like. I thought heartbreak was me, standing alone at the prom. That was nothing. This, this was heartbreak. The pain in your chest, the ache behind your eyes. The knowing that things will never be the same again. It’s all relative, I suppose. You think you know love, you think you know real pain, but you don’t. You don’t know anything.
Jenny HanTags: loss mourning heartbreak
You just know something is amiss, when you look at someone and long for something that is not yours or you cannot have. It's an absence--a loss of a heartbeat.
Nadège RichardsTags: love loss heart envy longing
Steven dreamed of you the very second
you died
(So the poem goes)
and you may have visited him
But I'm pretty sure you don't believe
in poems
I kept thinking back to all those nights in Connecticut, when I was out the door as soon as dinner was over, yelling my plans behind me as I headed to my car, ready for my real night to begin—my time with my family just something to get through as quickly as possible. And now that I knew that the time we had together was limited, I was holding on to it, trying to stretch it out, all the while wishing I’d appreciated what I’d had earlier.
Morgan Matson... The women's song was always the same, as monotonous as the beating of the waves against the beach: loss, loss. The conch offered them no enchantment. When they put their ear to it, all they heard was the echo of their mourning.
Carsten JensenI guess this was what it felt like to love someone and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them in your arms.
Margaret StohlMy life's an open book. Some of the pages are a little ripped, but it's open.
Tim LaHayeTags: life inspirational honesty loss
I hadn’t understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappy,why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why.
Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past
was my life.
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