Let me love you, he saidI want to mould that broken heart,To feel the pain the others before I have caused,Walk down the darkness that you walked through,Understand how something so broken can be so beautiful,I need to understand how you manifested.

She wasn__ his kind of woman, and she didn__ want to fall in love with a man who would break her heart like a Dorito.

A broken heart in real life isn't half as dreadful as it is in books. It's a good deal like a bad tooth, though you won't think THAT a very romantic simile. It takes spells of aching and gives you a sleepless night now and then, but between times it lets you enjoy life and dreams and echoes and peanut candy as if there were nothing the matter with it.

At the end of the day your ability to connect with your readers comes down to how you make them feel.

You can't sweep something broken into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair.

This is how the soul heals. it thaws out bit by bit, the way the ground warms after a hard winter. you notive the sun or hear the whippoorwill calling across the flats. You sweep your porch, go drink coffee in the shade of the trumpet vines. You have days where you want to lay down and die, but what you learn is this: As long as there's somebody left on this earth who loves you, it's reason enough to stay alive. You don't give in to your broke heart-- you just let the wide, cracked space fill up again.