If I had only loved your flesh And careless damned your soul to Hell, I might have laughed and loved afresh, And loved as lightly and as well, And little more to tell.

Неужели я разбила ваше сердце? Я не знала, что оно у вас есть. Разве я могла это знать?

Could I ever have loved you, had I not known you better than you know yourself?

And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.

If it were not for hopes, the heart would break.

Until this moment, I had not realized that someone could break your heart twice, along the very same fault lines.

Hearts can break. Yes. Hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.

Even the pain of what had felt on occasion like an irretrievably broken heart had consistently proved less lasting than she’d initially imagined and expected; the revelation that a boy’s taste was so grotesquely deficient he could prefer somebody else to her always reduced both the intensity and the duration of the anguish her heart demanded be endured to mark such a loss of regard.

an apology to past lovers:

i wasn't ready
to treat you well

i didn't know love
was meant to be selfless

i didn't know my pain
had control over my actions

i didn't know how far away
i was from myself
and how that distance
always kept us miles apart

(blind heart)

I thought you understood where I'd lost what you call my heart at the time.

That heart which, through separation, thou madest sad;
From every joy that was, which thou madest bare of;
From thy disposition I am aware that, suddenly and unexpectedly,
The rumour may arise that thou hast broken it.

It is strange how often a heart must be broken
Before the years can make it wise.