Quotes About Heartache

I don't think you ever really understood….…. All the love I had in the world went to you.

Though I never really had you….… to me you will always be the one that got away.

You're everything to me. But at best, I'm just a memory to you.

C.J. English, Affairytale

I have poured my heart out ….And now I am empty.

The only place I ever felt at home was with you. There isn't a place for me anywhere anymore… I've been evicted.

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.

They say "Follow your heart"….…. But I can't follow you where you're going…

It is the deepest of wrongs I am driven to write…. And losing you was one of them.

How do you love someone and just… walk away? Just like that. You just, go on as normal…. You get up, get dressed, go to work… How can you do that? How can you be okay with that?

If I cannot fix your broken heart can I put mine in its place, because these stars are not enough, and all the money in the world does not equal your worth.

There is this pain of love. You experience it some moments. It begins like a strange gnawing in your heart. It then spreads slowly. Spreads to the whole body. You fall deeply into it. This feeling.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.From an Irish headstone

Like Cupid, your promiseswere just misses.

The most challenging thing about love is sometimes we love someone who loves someone else.

I gave you up and died a little each day

For love I have invested my life with no return

Love has turned to be a sad tragedy of my life even we both are alive

The kind of love that offers its life so easily, so stupidly is always the love that is not returned.

True Love comes only once in life with one person, if its come second time its just medicine to forget first one.

When someone steals your heart not even the law can help you.

Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.

Maybe love and pain are synonyms.

There is something strangely ecstatic, oddly fascinating and infinitely magnetic about unrequited love.