come one
this is the topic….
i imagine once this 30 seconds is over I’m gonna see letters like love and heart and breathing and some description about how they share the same body parts but not like genitals, like bones.
There will be a description about the scent that someone left behind on their sheets.
Then there will be some kind of image of breaking or cracking or somehow feeling like there is a right and left, right and wrong part of you that there wasn’t before.
Some one relating to glue and popsicle sticks and feeling like falling.
someone ripping knives out of backs.
maybe someone with a sense of humor and always thinks that THIS time, THIS time they eat spagettio’s they won’t get heart burn, heartache.
and someone will have just been broken up with and be freaked out that one-word somehow took the only word in their head and put in front of them. How no matter what the word was they would of somehow related it hack to the feeling in their chest. i always think it feels like when you eat a bagel too fast. choked and swollen.
someone will have just gotten into a new relationship and think of heartache as only a thing of the past. Can look at it with nostalgia, like window shopping, like a charm bracelet.
Someone will look at the topic and not write anything because there isn’t any way to type out silent screaming except for the space bar. so they’ll just hold it down until they feel like there is enough space between heartache and themselves.
Someone’s will tell their spouse say thank you for never reminding them of what this word means.
Someone will be me and actually laugh out loud at the fact that this word heartache is sitting at the top of this page and how everyone knows what it feels like but thinks they are the only one experiencing it. Heartache is just a condition that makes you feel like you are on a completely different frequency because your radio is broken.
And you haven’t watched a romantic comedy in four months because you already have that ball in the back of your throat.
this is what’s on my mind. because i don’t know what’s in the future. i don’t believe you’ll feel the same way. i’m desperately trying to avoid this, but it’s out in the open. i have no idea what’s going to happen. my chest caves in, my heart sinks. you with someone else- it’s terrible. my stomach is being gnawed away, my heart beating fast. i’m not hungry most of the time. what is happening?
heartache ioh my god i would get this word on one of the nmost heartbreaking days of my life. my fiance ytold me she isnt happy with me anymore. i just want to be loved the right way by one woman i am in love with
He said goodbye, i’ll see ya some time later in my life.
I said alright, like it wasn’t a big deal.
But inside: [insert a hammer bashing wildly into my heart over and over again]
And it hurts more and more every time I recall the mirage of you turning away.
we’re not close anymore. it’s weird seeing you. i think i loved you. you’re so messed up now, but i can’t do anything to help. it fell apart, and this was never stable. i hope you stay healthy, i’m concerned. you were the first, and will always mean something to me.
it’s ridiculous, i barely even know you. i’m fighting for you, and it’s weird. you know i like you. i miss seeing you everyday, without you it’s strange. this is what i constantly feel, wishing i could be close with you emotionally and physically. i miss you.
The heartache I felt as she loaded her car down with the last box and climbed in, waving to me as she drove away was insurmountable. She was my baby and now she was all grown up and moving far away.
It took a toll on her, mentally, physically, and emotionally. The day he left was the day her world turned upside down. She couldn’t let go of him, not for one minute. The heartache she carried was too much too bear.
oh man. heartache… is something that you cannot avoid.
no matter how far you run, how loud you blast the music, and how much you try to bury the pain… heartache will always find you.
heartache is like a wildfire. it might burn and destroy what was, however it allows for your heart to be nourished and prepares it for new love to grow.
Every piece of this quilt, she’d told me, is a memory. I could remember her fingers, narrow and spidery with the cancer that was devouring her, stroking each square. Every piece is a piece of me.
oh my. at 66 years old I think I have had a few, some of them more painful than others. Fortunately none of mine have been literal in the sense that I had chest pains because of them. Pain yes, but more the emotional kind that causes grief and then healing.
it feels like red hot iron in my chest, fresh out of the forge still smoking yellow with sulfur. no brown bag with happy scribbled in sharpie is getting rid of this, it’s here to stay, nestled deep in my soul, a dearth of dopamine thats never going away.
What a word: heartache.
Ache normally implies physical pain,
And the heart is a physical thing, yet
Heartache is not “real”,
It is only an emotinal response
To something that if we are
Logical we can ignore.
Right?
My heart ached as I waited, waited for tuesday, when I would start a new class, and face a challenge, a real challenge. This would be the first time I entered a situation not sure of myself, ever, the first time I ever feared that I would not be in good enough shape to complete the task at hand.
I had a massive heartache thinking about my friends, family and even Wayne back home. I know that running away was a rash decision, but I couldn’t take it. My house was a prison in disguise. It was horrible. Wayne offered to take me in, but I knew that his parents would tell my parents ASAP. I can’t take that risk. I don’t need to give my brother another reason to smoke more. Does this give him more of a reason? Am I emotionally killing my brother and best guy friend? I should’ve told Kyle. My brother, just dying. My mom “Kyle! Get down from your room. She’s gone. Okay? She’s gone. Face it. She’s not coming back.” would be saying that now, and Kyle refusing, because he knew, even if I didn’t tell him, why I left. Because of my mother. She couldn’t care less. Just like when Dad left. She didn’t process it. She thinks that she’s still right, when we all know who was right during the Big Fight. The fight that drove my father out of the house. Was this just deja-vu to her? She’s probably thinking I can’t last a day out here, but she doesn’t know that on our five month family trips to California, I made friends that I would tell I was probably going to run away, and they would greatly take me under their roof. I have better friends than my mom. I have to go. Standing outside our neighborhood is as risky as this can get. California isn’t that far away, but I would need money. Oh gosh, where did Dad said he lived? I think it was right near here, but close to California. I should stay with him. He was the sensible one. He was my favorite. Never yelled, nor beat me like my mom. He was the one who would save me. Take me bowling the second I got out of school and we stayed out all day. When we came home he would make sure Mom was asleep before we came in so she wouldn’t yell at me. He got yelled at when he tried to sneak into their bed though. I could hear them every night. He wanted to take me in when he left, but Mom had such a tough grip on me that it gave me a bruise, and her nails cut into me that made a scar that still is here today. Off to Dad’s I go.
Heartache, oh wow, I feel as though I go through it as much as I dish it out. I typically make my own heartache, because i brood over stupid things, silly things, things that most wouldn’t even bat an eye at. And then the things I should be pondering, I let go, until I can’t take it anymore, and just want to be rid of the source of the pain. And by then It is far too late to even hope to salvage what once was there, because once I get something stuck in my head, very rarely does it ever change, I almost never admit when I’m wrong. And if I do admit fault to any person ever at all, you better know you’re damn special.
How many times in a day can it happen? How many lifetimes? Heartache can strike with a look, a turning away, an absence, from angry words, in silence. There are too many triggers and I seem to be striking them all.
It was once a word spoken with rolled eyes and laughing tones. Said in mocking to girls that gave up far too much, way too soon.
Now, it is a pain in my chest, a physical pain that lives up to every letter of it’s name. It is not an over exaggeration. It is not a metaphor. It is a true pain, nestled deep into one’s chest, in between one’s ribs, eating away at one’s heart.
Heartache, it is like a sickness. A heart aches for many reasons; mine, for the one I once loved. How can I describe my heartache? It was like a poison in my body, it coursed through me like a spreading death, perpetually worsening my entire body. I never realized that my heart held such an important role in keeping my entire body stable. My mind became blackened with thoughts and memories of times spent with her. My body felt weak and dead as I lumbered on through my dreadful sorrow. But, I was young. Now I realize it was for the best.
What kind of silly word is this? This is just like asking for a whole bunch of stories about broken hearts and broken romances. Everyone has those. As unique and poignant as they all feel, very few are any different from another. Hearts are fickle. We dream, we bemoan, and then we forget. A year’s time, and the biggest deal in the world becomes just a speck in a big trash heap.
To all those that have left me behind in the past months. I haven’t sought forgiveness since, but understanding and the ability to move on. There is no unimaginable heartache than that which you feel when the loved ones around drop like flies or have their innocent bodies mercilessly thrown on highways. It’s not a time to be abandoned like I was. Yet, I moved on. I never had that chance to feel the last look into his eyes or the will to say goodbye, but I want to stomach; I want to swallow; I want to live. Some days are still worse than others, but I’m learning patience against my will, and I know I’ll get by always scraping with just a hunger and a heart apart. It’s a hell of a thing.
heart ache is found when i discovered my firstlove had left me for another guy…..it was the feeling that no matter what i did or how i did it…i could not take back the peace of mind i had or the love i had lost. she tore my soul and for this i will never forget her or how we meet, in the park and watched small dogs playing in the grass.
Heartache.
Damnit, this word would take more than a minute to talk about, to write accurately enough.
I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with a spoon than undergo heartache in its truest form.
yet it’s a right of passage…
Today, it’s a right of passage and you’re not all “grown up” until you’ve had a broken heart.
God damnit, I still feel it every day.
Once your heart breaks, it mends, but it’s never going to be perfect again. Scars will always remain.
every morning when we have to go in separate directions, every time we have to stop what we’re doing and give attention to something or someone else…it’s ridiculous how bad it is. functioning in normal life? painful without you for even a second sometimes…
Heartache is made of vintage lace I and the wrapper left after a food fight. It’s when you look back at something someone else would never look twice and a weigh drops inside of you. it’s the moment when you realize, not matter what is said and done and forgiven, your past can never become your future.
with love there is inevitably heartache. be it in the dismantling of a relationship and self doubt and pain experienced during a break up that just hurts your heart.
there is alot of heartache today. relationships, friendships, death and other stuff. its all very sad really. the root of sadness int he world today is a real easy answer. its too much wealth. when was hte last time you seen money make someone truely happy? you need to have other things then money in your life to be tru
all it would take for me to love you is a look. a look that says maybe. but maybe isnt good enough. maybe just leaves my heart aching. for you, maybe means no.
I’ve known here too well, for too long. I’ve never found an escape from the pains of the heart, an eternal heartache. Where she lies, I don’t know, but she is out there ready to alleviate what ails me, and when I find her — which is all but certain — I will be whole.
Why? What did I do wrong? I just don’t understand. I thought he liked me. I thought he was happy. Until last night. Chocolate and ice-cream can’t make me forget him or make me happy. People say he didn’t deserve me, or that it was his loss not mine. But their wrong. It is my loss. I was crazy about him. He made me so happy. I feel so empty.
She lovingly brushes the heart I wear openly on my sleeve, and the fire in my veins burn. The pulse beats a little quicker, the breath heaves a little heavier, and the mind is screaming as her eyes are pleading with me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” they ask. “Shut up,” I tell myself. “Shut up. Shut up. Shutupshutupshu-” She smiles sadly, and I find myself suddenly afraid for her delicate lips, as if the very act of kissing them might crush her; crush me. My nerves sing their shrill song, and I grope for the lyrics. I don’t know the words. “You coward,” her eyes whisper. They reflect her hurt, and she is beautiful. The record skips for a moment, and for that single perfect moment, everything is still.
Then the moment passes, has always passed, and the record continues playing. Everything is exactly the same. I blink, and she is gone. I drown myself in a torrent of amber, the liquid gold firing in my throat, searing away the sore, wounded memories of a wicked muse flickering through my Pandora’s Box, and I paint a wounded smile as I greet the numb.
Mother always told me, be careful who you love. Don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts! It’s not a cute little game of puppy love anymore, I guess I haven’t quite grown out of it yet and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly. I love you!
The heartache suffuses my soul, again. I want to tell her of life, and joy, and life immortal, but nobody will listen, and I don’t know what to do. I must beat through the bush, but the bush keeps moving. Each branch has a mind of its own, this burning bush of lies…
heart ache
come one
this is the topic….
i imagine once this 30 seconds is over I’m gonna see letters like love and heart and breathing and some description about how they share the same body parts but not like genitals, like bones.
There will be a description about the scent that someone left behind on their sheets.
Then there will be some kind of image of breaking or cracking or somehow feeling like there is a right and left, right and wrong part of you that there wasn’t before.
Some one relating to glue and popsicle sticks and feeling like falling.
someone ripping knives out of backs.
maybe someone with a sense of humor and always thinks that THIS time, THIS time they eat spagettio’s they won’t get heart burn, heartache.
and someone will have just been broken up with and be freaked out that one-word somehow took the only word in their head and put in front of them. How no matter what the word was they would of somehow related it hack to the feeling in their chest. i always think it feels like when you eat a bagel too fast. choked and swollen.
someone will have just gotten into a new relationship and think of heartache as only a thing of the past. Can look at it with nostalgia, like window shopping, like a charm bracelet.
Someone will look at the topic and not write anything because there isn’t any way to type out silent screaming except for the space bar. so they’ll just hold it down until they feel like there is enough space between heartache and themselves.
Someone’s will tell their spouse say thank you for never reminding them of what this word means.
Someone will be me and actually laugh out loud at the fact that this word heartache is sitting at the top of this page and how everyone knows what it feels like but thinks they are the only one experiencing it. Heartache is just a condition that makes you feel like you are on a completely different frequency because your radio is broken.
And you haven’t watched a romantic comedy in four months because you already have that ball in the back of your throat.
this is what’s on my mind. because i don’t know what’s in the future. i don’t believe you’ll feel the same way. i’m desperately trying to avoid this, but it’s out in the open. i have no idea what’s going to happen. my chest caves in, my heart sinks. you with someone else- it’s terrible. my stomach is being gnawed away, my heart beating fast. i’m not hungry most of the time. what is happening?
heartache ioh my god i would get this word on one of the nmost heartbreaking days of my life. my fiance ytold me she isnt happy with me anymore. i just want to be loved the right way by one woman i am in love with
He said goodbye, i’ll see ya some time later in my life.
I said alright, like it wasn’t a big deal.
But inside: [insert a hammer bashing wildly into my heart over and over again]
And it hurts more and more every time I recall the mirage of you turning away.
we’re not close anymore. it’s weird seeing you. i think i loved you. you’re so messed up now, but i can’t do anything to help. it fell apart, and this was never stable. i hope you stay healthy, i’m concerned. you were the first, and will always mean something to me.
it’s ridiculous, i barely even know you. i’m fighting for you, and it’s weird. you know i like you. i miss seeing you everyday, without you it’s strange. this is what i constantly feel, wishing i could be close with you emotionally and physically. i miss you.
The heartache I felt as she loaded her car down with the last box and climbed in, waving to me as she drove away was insurmountable. She was my baby and now she was all grown up and moving far away.
It took a toll on her, mentally, physically, and emotionally. The day he left was the day her world turned upside down. She couldn’t let go of him, not for one minute. The heartache she carried was too much too bear.
oh man. heartache… is something that you cannot avoid.
no matter how far you run, how loud you blast the music, and how much you try to bury the pain… heartache will always find you.
heartache is like a wildfire. it might burn and destroy what was, however it allows for your heart to be nourished and prepares it for new love to grow.
The pain in your heart that never leaves
Something others try to ease
How ironic.
Every piece of this quilt, she’d told me, is a memory. I could remember her fingers, narrow and spidery with the cancer that was devouring her, stroking each square. Every piece is a piece of me.
oh my. at 66 years old I think I have had a few, some of them more painful than others. Fortunately none of mine have been literal in the sense that I had chest pains because of them. Pain yes, but more the emotional kind that causes grief and then healing.
it feels like red hot iron in my chest, fresh out of the forge still smoking yellow with sulfur. no brown bag with happy scribbled in sharpie is getting rid of this, it’s here to stay, nestled deep in my soul, a dearth of dopamine thats never going away.
What a word: heartache.
Ache normally implies physical pain,
And the heart is a physical thing, yet
Heartache is not “real”,
It is only an emotinal response
To something that if we are
Logical we can ignore.
Right?
My heart ached as I waited, waited for tuesday, when I would start a new class, and face a challenge, a real challenge. This would be the first time I entered a situation not sure of myself, ever, the first time I ever feared that I would not be in good enough shape to complete the task at hand.
I had a massive heartache thinking about my friends, family and even Wayne back home. I know that running away was a rash decision, but I couldn’t take it. My house was a prison in disguise. It was horrible. Wayne offered to take me in, but I knew that his parents would tell my parents ASAP. I can’t take that risk. I don’t need to give my brother another reason to smoke more. Does this give him more of a reason? Am I emotionally killing my brother and best guy friend? I should’ve told Kyle. My brother, just dying. My mom “Kyle! Get down from your room. She’s gone. Okay? She’s gone. Face it. She’s not coming back.” would be saying that now, and Kyle refusing, because he knew, even if I didn’t tell him, why I left. Because of my mother. She couldn’t care less. Just like when Dad left. She didn’t process it. She thinks that she’s still right, when we all know who was right during the Big Fight. The fight that drove my father out of the house. Was this just deja-vu to her? She’s probably thinking I can’t last a day out here, but she doesn’t know that on our five month family trips to California, I made friends that I would tell I was probably going to run away, and they would greatly take me under their roof. I have better friends than my mom. I have to go. Standing outside our neighborhood is as risky as this can get. California isn’t that far away, but I would need money. Oh gosh, where did Dad said he lived? I think it was right near here, but close to California. I should stay with him. He was the sensible one. He was my favorite. Never yelled, nor beat me like my mom. He was the one who would save me. Take me bowling the second I got out of school and we stayed out all day. When we came home he would make sure Mom was asleep before we came in so she wouldn’t yell at me. He got yelled at when he tried to sneak into their bed though. I could hear them every night. He wanted to take me in when he left, but Mom had such a tough grip on me that it gave me a bruise, and her nails cut into me that made a scar that still is here today. Off to Dad’s I go.
Heartache, oh wow, I feel as though I go through it as much as I dish it out. I typically make my own heartache, because i brood over stupid things, silly things, things that most wouldn’t even bat an eye at. And then the things I should be pondering, I let go, until I can’t take it anymore, and just want to be rid of the source of the pain. And by then It is far too late to even hope to salvage what once was there, because once I get something stuck in my head, very rarely does it ever change, I almost never admit when I’m wrong. And if I do admit fault to any person ever at all, you better know you’re damn special.
How many times in a day can it happen? How many lifetimes? Heartache can strike with a look, a turning away, an absence, from angry words, in silence. There are too many triggers and I seem to be striking them all.
It was once a word spoken with rolled eyes and laughing tones. Said in mocking to girls that gave up far too much, way too soon.
Now, it is a pain in my chest, a physical pain that lives up to every letter of it’s name. It is not an over exaggeration. It is not a metaphor. It is a true pain, nestled deep into one’s chest, in between one’s ribs, eating away at one’s heart.
Heartache, it is like a sickness. A heart aches for many reasons; mine, for the one I once loved. How can I describe my heartache? It was like a poison in my body, it coursed through me like a spreading death, perpetually worsening my entire body. I never realized that my heart held such an important role in keeping my entire body stable. My mind became blackened with thoughts and memories of times spent with her. My body felt weak and dead as I lumbered on through my dreadful sorrow. But, I was young. Now I realize it was for the best.
What kind of silly word is this? This is just like asking for a whole bunch of stories about broken hearts and broken romances. Everyone has those. As unique and poignant as they all feel, very few are any different from another. Hearts are fickle. We dream, we bemoan, and then we forget. A year’s time, and the biggest deal in the world becomes just a speck in a big trash heap.
To all those that have left me behind in the past months. I haven’t sought forgiveness since, but understanding and the ability to move on. There is no unimaginable heartache than that which you feel when the loved ones around drop like flies or have their innocent bodies mercilessly thrown on highways. It’s not a time to be abandoned like I was. Yet, I moved on. I never had that chance to feel the last look into his eyes or the will to say goodbye, but I want to stomach; I want to swallow; I want to live. Some days are still worse than others, but I’m learning patience against my will, and I know I’ll get by always scraping with just a hunger and a heart apart. It’s a hell of a thing.
Heartache by the dozen.
Soulaches by the second.
Every moment I think I’m living.
I realize, I’ve died.
I don’t feel anything.
I don’t need to anymore.
Because my heart may have cried for you.
Ached, sighed and screamed inside.
But I was nothing more than a shadow, barely worthy to be under you.
Because while my heart my have cried and whined and wailed.
I learned something more.
While my heart cried.
My soul died.
When it died.
I gave you up.
You are no longer my heartache.
I would rather you be a speck of dust, so that the ache in my soul is complete.
You are no longer out of reach.
I have simply grown up.
And moved on.
heart ache is found when i discovered my firstlove had left me for another guy…..it was the feeling that no matter what i did or how i did it…i could not take back the peace of mind i had or the love i had lost. she tore my soul and for this i will never forget her or how we meet, in the park and watched small dogs playing in the grass.
“I have to tell you something and I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”
“What?” I asked cautiously. i didn’t know if I actually wanted to hear this or not.
“I went out with Jeremy today. We…” She hesitated.
“You kissed.” I filled in the blanks for her. Tears filled my eyes.
“I- How do you know?” She asked me.
Her confirmation spilled my tears over. “I guessed.”
“I’m sorry Elle,” She whispered.
“Yeah, whatever,” I mumbled and turned away. “I’m going home.”
“No… please don’t leave.” She said softly.
“Goodbye.”
Heartache.
Damnit, this word would take more than a minute to talk about, to write accurately enough.
I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with a spoon than undergo heartache in its truest form.
yet it’s a right of passage…
Today, it’s a right of passage and you’re not all “grown up” until you’ve had a broken heart.
God damnit, I still feel it every day.
Once your heart breaks, it mends, but it’s never going to be perfect again. Scars will always remain.
every morning when we have to go in separate directions, every time we have to stop what we’re doing and give attention to something or someone else…it’s ridiculous how bad it is. functioning in normal life? painful without you for even a second sometimes…
Heartache is made of vintage lace I and the wrapper left after a food fight. It’s when you look back at something someone else would never look twice and a weigh drops inside of you. it’s the moment when you realize, not matter what is said and done and forgiven, your past can never become your future.
with love there is inevitably heartache. be it in the dismantling of a relationship and self doubt and pain experienced during a break up that just hurts your heart.
and pain two of lifes miseries; feels like your soul washing down a never ending drain. its gone its over
there is alot of heartache today. relationships, friendships, death and other stuff. its all very sad really. the root of sadness int he world today is a real easy answer. its too much wealth. when was hte last time you seen money make someone truely happy? you need to have other things then money in your life to be tru
all it would take for me to love you is a look. a look that says maybe. but maybe isnt good enough. maybe just leaves my heart aching. for you, maybe means no.
feeling of emptiness anguish and fear. listening to lots of radiohead the smiths and the cure.
heartache. fuck. its like losing your favorite notebook, or a the creativity to write but you find that your pencil is broken. fuck. not a good word.
I’ve known here too well, for too long. I’ve never found an escape from the pains of the heart, an eternal heartache. Where she lies, I don’t know, but she is out there ready to alleviate what ails me, and when I find her — which is all but certain — I will be whole.
Why? What did I do wrong? I just don’t understand. I thought he liked me. I thought he was happy. Until last night. Chocolate and ice-cream can’t make me forget him or make me happy. People say he didn’t deserve me, or that it was his loss not mine. But their wrong. It is my loss. I was crazy about him. He made me so happy. I feel so empty.
She lovingly brushes the heart I wear openly on my sleeve, and the fire in my veins burn. The pulse beats a little quicker, the breath heaves a little heavier, and the mind is screaming as her eyes are pleading with me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” they ask. “Shut up,” I tell myself. “Shut up. Shut up. Shutupshutupshu-” She smiles sadly, and I find myself suddenly afraid for her delicate lips, as if the very act of kissing them might crush her; crush me. My nerves sing their shrill song, and I grope for the lyrics. I don’t know the words. “You coward,” her eyes whisper. They reflect her hurt, and she is beautiful. The record skips for a moment, and for that single perfect moment, everything is still.
Then the moment passes, has always passed, and the record continues playing. Everything is exactly the same. I blink, and she is gone. I drown myself in a torrent of amber, the liquid gold firing in my throat, searing away the sore, wounded memories of a wicked muse flickering through my Pandora’s Box, and I paint a wounded smile as I greet the numb.
Mother always told me, be careful who you love. Don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts! It’s not a cute little game of puppy love anymore, I guess I haven’t quite grown out of it yet and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly. I love you!
The heartache suffuses my soul, again. I want to tell her of life, and joy, and life immortal, but nobody will listen, and I don’t know what to do. I must beat through the bush, but the bush keeps moving. Each branch has a mind of its own, this burning bush of lies…