I broke my Heart

I can’t understand this pain. It’s unbearable, more than any punishment or any asthma attack I have ever been through. If I was asked to rate the pain, it would be a 100/100; because honestly it just hurts. I’m not exaggerating it, not blowing it out of proportion; maybe I am pain intolerant…
I don’t understand, why am I still alive? It’s so unbearable, my thoughts keep scattering, scenarios keep running through my mind, “would he ever forgive me?”
If I asked him to take me back, would he say yes or no?
If we ever get back would we ever be the same?
If not, will this pain increase daily?
Would I get over Him?
I never understood what it meant to be heartbroken until now. It’s not a sexy feeling; it can’t be hidden; it’s bearable yet bearable, and it comes with swollen eyelids and an endless flow of tears. People get heartbroken in many ways—by their cheating spouse, when they lose their jobs, or their child in a plane crash, and many other reasons I can’t recall. The degree of heartbreak varies also. Everyone has their heartbreak yield (This is the point where they can’t take anymore heartbreak, so they either shutdown becoming cold, stone-hearted creatures , or they become players, or become gay, Or still have faith that someday they will find the right person). Some tolerate more than others. Some learn from it, others don’t—they capitulate.

Please note that I’m no relationship expert.

I broke my heart by letting go. I have done this a million times but this time was different. I still can’t place where the pain is from but I can guess it’s from my heart. It feels broken but yet functioning properly.
I feel empty without purpose like I had just come back from an intergalactic war in which I sold my heart to win.
I feel like a black hole is hovering around me destroying all my elements and leaving me with only me, myself, and my writing skills.
They probably figured out I need to communicate; can’t do it verbally because I end up crying like a child or a man who lost his wife to cancer or a child who saw his brother get shot multiple times. So I channel all my pain into writing and crying; mostly crying while writing as the memories keep coming back and hitting me hard like Mohammed Ali.
The beautiful thing about heartbreaks is we are still alive no matter the pain. We get a second chance and that is life itself. We become stronger believe it or not and wiser. So as I go through the healing process I chant, “May we get stronger as our odds get tougher”