A broken heart isn’t just a feeling—it’s a weight, a silence, a sudden emptiness where something warm used to live. It’s the nights that stretch too long and the mornings that come too soon, each one reminding you of what’s missing.

It’s the ache of memories, the ones you once held close, now sharp and unforgiving. The echo of laughter that no longer belongs to you, the way their absence carves itself into your routine. People say time heals, but they don’t mention how slowly it moves when your heart is in pieces.

Yet, even in the wreckage, there’s something else—a quiet strength, a resilience you don’t recognize yet. The heart, no matter how shattered, has a way of mending, of finding light even in the deepest dark. And one day, without even realizing it, you’ll breathe without it hurting. You’ll smile without forcing it. And you’ll see that even broken hearts still beat.


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