Until she knew, that it was possible to die of a broken heart. That as exaggerated as it sounded, the heart could suffocate and take the body away with it, that love could do this; it had the incredible power to actually end life. She lay at night literally clutching at her chest, gasping and tearing, wondering if she was having a heart attack.
How funny it was, that the metaphorical heart could be so physically linked to the real heart. How the actual heart ached, when in reality it was just pumping blood, directing it around the body and beating to its own rhythm, living its life quietly, functioning for just one important task. The brain should be feeling it! she reasoned. The brain should be feeling the pain – that’s where the memories are kept, where emotions are triggered, where nerves are stored.
Her head should have the painful suffocating ache, not her heart.