Why?” I asked, confused. Why did he care?
“Why what?”
“Why was he having a panic attack?”
She stared at me with her eyes wide before she leaned in.
“Lila…because he thought he’d lost you; he thought you were dead.”
“He didn’t have me to lose.” My breathing picked up as the emotional pain tightened my chest. “He threw me away.
Tag: love heartbreak
This isn’t Sex and the City, and life isn’t a Nicholas Sparks novel. The best kind of love is one that is calming on the spirit, easy on the heart, fulfilling and completing.
Hope AlcocerTag: inspirational love marriage relationships life-lessons heartbreak love-story
But death was her curse and her gift, and death had been her good friend these long, long years.
Sarah J. MaasTag: death reflective heartbreak
The ending is coming. I can feel it. I don’t know if I can take it this time. But then again, I say that every time and yet, every time I take it. And, I come back to her again for more. I will take whatever time I can get with her. I will do that for a lifetime. I will. I know that much about myself. She is my water. I can never get enough of her, and it appears that I will die trying to love her, to keep her, to hold her with me, even though our time together seems to evaporate so swiftly. It slips through our fingers so damn fast that we don’t even have time to savor it when we’re together.
Katherine OwenTag: novel heartbreak lincoln-presley this-much-is-true
Here’s the truth: I am the female version of a heartbreaker. The one that everyone says is too dedicated to ballet, too self-involved to ever care about anyone else besides herself. I’m the rebel. The bad twin. I am Tally—the loner, the party of one. The love and leave ‘em prototype. Heartless. That is me. I have no time for romance, flowers, or relationships. I like one-night stands with plenty of sex and no promises of a future. I like the lies I tell. I’m comfortable in telling them…most of the time. This is me.
Katherine OwenTag: truth lies novel heartbreak this-much-is-true
The old Amy, the girl of the big laugh and the easy ways, literally shed herself, a pile of skin and soul on the floor, and stepped this new, brittle, bitter Amy ... a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of 'solving Amy'. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebooks on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings.
Gillian FlynnTag: love loss change marriage relationships hatred criticism failure strangers bullying heartbreak nothing flaws broken-heart scary heartless turmoil puppeteer hurtful change-for-worse emotional-turmoil i-miss-who-you-were missing-who-someone-was
I think maybe, when I was very young, I witnessed a chaste cheek kiss between the two when it was impossible to avoid. Christmas, birthdays. Dry lips. On their best married days, their communications were entirely transactional: 'We're out of milk again.' (I'll get some today.) 'I need this ironed properly.' (I'll do that today.) 'How hard is it to buy milk?' (Silence.) 'You forgot to call the plumber.' (Sigh.) 'Goddammit, put on your coat, right now, and go out and get some goddamn milk. Now.' These messages and orders brought to you by my father, a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee.
Gillian FlynnTag: love family parents silence communication fight childhood mother parenthood fighting depression parents-and-children heartbreak relationship sexism divorce father abuse fights love-lost childhood-memories abusive-relationships bad-parenting abusive abusive-relationship broken-home
...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.
Gillian FlynnTag: love rage family parents silence communication fight childhood mother anger parenthood fighting malice parents-and-children heartbreak sexism fury divorce terror father abuse scared heartbroken fights love-lost childhood-memories abusive-parents emotional-abuse abusive mental-abuse broken-home
My dad had limitations. That's what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.
Gillian FlynnTag: harm family parents relationships childhood hurt mother scars parenthood indoctrination parents-and-children heartbreak loyalty divorce father limits limitations abuse heartbroken brainwashing false-beliefs love-lost childhood-memories emotional-abuse bad-parenting abusive psychological-abuse mental-abuse broken-home didn-t-mean-it
Omnia mutantur; nihil interit
OvidTag: life loss death change latin heartbreak lost-love loss-of-innocence
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