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wnq-writers
People say that this feeling is called heart broken, but ‘broken’ doesn’t really describe what I’m feeling at all. When you break something, like glass, I imagine it to shatter into smaller pieces. After impact, it’s all over and you’re left with fragments of what used to be whole just a few seconds ago. So what I’m feeling is not broken. My heart is still whole, even after everything. What I feel is more gradual, and I can feel it permeating through my veins. It’s like the setting of the sun, and you’re just sitting on the sidewalk watching the shadows elongate. It’s slow, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s like feeling every single grain of sand fall from an hourglass, until you have a pile that accumulates in the center of your chest. And this pile of sand is what makes my heart feel so full and heavy, not broken.

rinrinisnochubi (via wordsnquotes)

Source: wnq-writers.com
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There are two types of waiting. There’s the waiting you do for something you know is coming, sooner or later, like waiting for the 6:28pm train, or the school bus, or a party. Then there’s the waiting for something you don’t know is coming. You don’t even know what it is exactly, but you’re hoping for it. You’re imagining it and living your life for it. That’s the kind of waiting that makes a fist in your heart.

unknwn (via sikolohistang-baliw)

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