Breakup Quotes - Page 2

How many times did we pass each other before we met? If only I’d known…. I would have searched for you endlessly.If only I’d found you before it was already too late.

She wanted to write to him. Tell him she was glad he was back, that he was alive, that he was home and safe. But words to him no longer fit right in her her mouth.Words which belonged in his ownership were no longer hers to give. Silence was the only acceptable state her heart would grant. He would never know what he missed, because she refused to be heard in his presence. All the words he could have had, all the phrases he might have danced with. The smiles which would have been imprinted upon his heart, would never be. And his lips would never be able to reply to the words she could not say.

In true Love, you are always blessed….Either being with the person or just by not.

One of the reasons God did not make a lover for Himself when He made one for Adam is because He knew that fewer people would take Him seriously once He had an ex.

It’s the intricate details you miss the most. For me, it’s the soft lines around the eyes when he smiles… Or that look he gave me sometimes that I cannot begin to describe - but I would know it if I saw it again.It was the look that gave him away.I’d know that look anywhere…It used to be my everything.

Some things a heart won't listen to, I'm still holding out for you

I hate to hate you, but what else have you left me with!

Cam knew that if she succeeded, it was going to destroy her, but she could worry about that later. All she had to do at the moment was cut her own heart out without letting the wound show too much; she'd have plenty of time to bleed after Alex had gone.

You fell in love with a storm. Did you really think you would get out unscathed?

Everything is all right,When you’re here,When you’re right next to me,When my hand is in yours,Don’t leave me,Don’t leave me empty handed.

I am leaving. Where? Not where but whom. Whom? You.

He will be sorry for the way he treated you, Don't you worry about that. Focus on your growth and watch his eyes gaze in sorrow as he knows, he was the bastard that made you strong.

I am not seeing myself in your eyes, I think someone has replaced me

Perhaps I was easier to shake off for you because you’re such a together person. I was just an extra layer on the outside… like a blanket you could shrug off and feel just the same…. except maybe a little colder….But I was always a broken person that was haphazardly held together by little more than my own strength. And so you just seeped in the cracks and mingled with my insides until you became an inseparable part of me. And as painful as that is, it still kind of warms me to know I will always carry a part of you with me.

I still think of you every day.But I’m trying not to let it hurt me with the same intensity that it used to.

If you’re going to be a dickhead, at least have the courtesy of doing it while I have a drink in my hand so I can throw it in your face!

Thought I couldn't live without youIt's gonna hurt when it heals tooEven though I really love youI'm gonna smile cause I deserve toQuickly I'm learning to love againAll I know is I'mma be ok

I loved you, I trusted you, but you lied to me, deceived my heart and poisoned my life.Now I'm corrupt, I hurt people all in rage of you, but I can't help it.I'm nothing to you now, never was, but your acting still made it hurt. So thanks to you, I hate you too, but my heart will always cry.

I said I love youwhen what I meant to say was"I’m afraid of being alone."I said I need youwhen what I meant to say was"I need to learn how to love myself.

It’s times like this…. when it’s over a year later and I’m still crying over you that I want to turn to you and say: See…. This is why I asked you never to kiss me.

The last time I felt alive – I was looking into your eyes.Breathing your air…. touching your skin…… Saying goodbye….The last time I felt alive…. I was dying.

Why can't Spider-sense warn you when you're about to get dumped?

when building a friendship bridge don't forget to construct a distruative path.

How did you know it was love?" "It never really hurt this much before.

How I wish I could undo it all … take it all back…All those years I spent unhappy with him …. when I should have been looking for you.

I pour another drink and wash the taste of dashed dreams from the back of my tongue. I feel half-dead, but my broken heart somehow still beats. What a stubborn, senseless organ, to keep going when all hope and happiness are lost.

Sometimes you're going to have to let one person go a thousand different times, a thousand different ways, and there's nothing pathetic or abnormal about that. You are human.

They said, "You'll never find someone like me again!" I thanked them for wishing me well.

Though these words will never find you, I hope that you knew I was thinking of you today….. and that I was wishing you every happiness.Love Always,The girl you loved once.

All the broken hearts in the world still beat

We were a perfect match. Maybe that's why we burnt out.

Some women have kissed—and some are kissing—a lot of frogs, even though the very first man that they have each kissed was and is still a prince.

There were a million things, everything, I didn't know. I was stupid, the official descriptive phrase for happy. I took this thing I'm giving you back, this thing you gave me as the star we were waiting for finally emerged.

I’ve spoken to Sid,” she admits. “He says he’s never seen Charlie so bad. He won’t eat, he’s lost weight and he looks terrible. Sid says it’s the first time he’s ever been so bored by him that he’s considered smothering him.

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.

Don't cry for someone who would love smiling when your tears are flowing.

Your smile and your laughter lit my whole world.

It's hard to let go of something you never really had but, even harder when you know it’s everything you ever wanted,

Though life has fated that we never cross paths again, don’t ever feel alone. For we are parallel …. and I will always be by your side.

Neither of us had anything to say, or rather we had everything to say, but after all those nights of not saying a word, we suddenly found we had not one dollar of time left between us.

Those days are gone, and good fucking riddance to them; unhappiness really meant something back then. Now it's just a drag, like a cold or having no money. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains tight around my chest,and if you see a fire from the shore tonightit’s my chains going up in flames.

She had hope in her heart but after a while, with each step forward, hope stepped back. And for the first time in months, the first time ever, she began to weep, and as she did she knew that with the retreat of hope her heart had finally caught up with her head. And as each tear spilled over she let them go, she was letting go.

Though it’s reasons to burn may vary... you are always the fuel of my fire.

I missed you more now than I had when I lost you. I was forgetting the bad things faster than I forgot the good, and the changing ratio felt a little bit like falling in love even though I was actually speaking to you less and less.

We do not leave those whom we truly love. We only break the hearts of those whom we can tolerate their hurts and can move away from their pain" From "The Jasmine Tree: Love in the time of revolutions

We don't get to choose who we fall in love with. If we did, the world would have fewer single mothers.

The passage is free for those who think you are not good enough for them: at your level, I think the best option is to sit back, relax and listen to a cool music, while watching them pack out of your life, and that's when you feel the intense release from the pit of hell.

..And now you've lost the only thing that ever made you feel alive

As time goes by, westart to see more clearly,and are able to see thatit wasn’t all bad, and thatperhaps just perhapsthe breakup was a gift.

You will not be my X, but you will always be my full story from ( A to Z )

But that's the thing with death. The whisper of it descent travels fast and wide, and people must've know I'd become a corpse because nobody even came to view the body.

Now I think of breaking up as moving. Imagine you have your own house, full of your own boxes. A person you meet has his own house, full of his own boxes. When you have a relationship with that person, you shack up in a third house, into which you can each put any number of your boxes. You shouldn't move them all in at once, or else you will seem too eager. And don't dawdle too much either, or you will seem skittish about commitment. You kind of aim to match each other's pace, so that the power balance feels fair and equal. Happy marriage--at least ideally--would be the situation in which both parties enthusiastically choose to keep all of their boxes in their shared house. Conversely, when someone starts to doubt the relationship, he might move a box or two back into his own house, just in case. While he's weighing his options, he may transport a few more boxes to the safety of his own home. When he's ready to take back his final few boxes, he breaks up with you. If you were too infatuated to see it coming, there you are, with all of your boxes in the shared house, and none in the security of your own home.

It's never over till it's really over in your mind...

She wears it so beautifully doesn’t she, her pain… Always smiling, always positive…. always happy to help… It’s like a garment perfectly tailored to fit the way she carries it… with a touch of grace… and the quietness of that sad smile…. All so you’d never know how heavy it really was.

He'd kept his figure despite being past his first youth. Pretty good for nearly forty.Who was she fooling? She knew quite well that he was thirty-five and a half, exactly five years older than she. Their birthdays were two days apart. It was absurd the way trivial facts lingered in the memory, facts as unimportant as what she had for dinner on Tuesday. Except that she couldn't remember last week's menu and she was annoyingly aware of Max Quinton's preference for lamb over beef, for apple tart over syllabub. He preferred Shakespeare to the modern poets, the country to the town.

I stood in your doorway this morningdreaming you’d turn aroundyou’d tilt your headyou’d softly whisper ”stay”or that you’d grab my armsto shake me while askingwhat the hell are we doingwe loveeach otherand this is not rightso we will make this worknow stay!You poured your coffee. Stirred the spoon like a crystal manwith your back to me and not a sound. the fridge humming elegies while the clock ticked onand the streets are so clean here people rushing to workand maybe I should be tooby nowat this agethis stagethis town.I will stand in that doorway dreamingfor many nights to come.

The first love disappears, but never goes. That ache becomes reconciliation.

I keep having this fantasy about some wide river or channel I'm on the bank of. I can look up, and on the far side is another, better self, holding hands with Mercer—that's his name, my ex—and both of them are watching me flail over here, watching me from the life I'm supposed to have had. When did it become impossible to get there from here? When did that bridge get burned?

Blaming the ex for the breakup is like blaming the clothes for not fitting you.