Heartbreak Definition Essay

Heartbreak is something that everyone goes through at least once in their life, if they are lucky. However, us as humans always trying to avoid this conflict at all means possible. Ending a relationship with someone that you have loved with your whole being is one of the most challenging things to accept. While this conflict that I would like to address is not one that personally involved me, I have been affect and defined by it. It all began in 1990, my mother and father met in a bowling alley by the name of Cedar Lanes. It was almost love at first sight, they both came from troubled past and hard previous relationships. They bonded over their passion for music, dancing, bowling and above all else their love for their children. My mother had a son, my brother David, from a previous marriage. Her first marriage was to the man that my brother calls father; it lasted roughly ten years. During this ten years, this man managed to destroy my mother in every possible way. He had physically, emotionally, and mentally abused my mother for the majority of their marriage. While it took her a while to understand her worth, she managed to escape and make a full recovery.

Love is a powerful emotion that every human being has experience at least once in their life. There are numerous connotations that refer to this emotion, but there is only one kind of love that can make a person change completely in unexpected ways. It is the kind of love that consumes the soul and everything within. Mixed with excitement, adventure, heartbreak, happiness and joy; it is a big ball of feelings, all concentrated in one simple, yet extremely complicated necessity to have, protect, please and give all of oneself to that one person. In certain occasions, love can grow very intense and, consequently,

I don't know if I'm a constant reminder of my mother's death and that is why my father had tossed me to the side or for some other reason. My father hasn't even had the gratitude to show me a photo of mother or at least described what her personality

Growing up I was extremely close to my father. He was always a tough guy to please, and I aspired to impress him and be the daughter he wanted me to be. Little did I know, my father would end up breaking my heart, and be responsible for tearing my family apart.

Although I had no father figure in my early life, I grew up with my mom and my grandparents. I had an extremely loving home where if I got to the protesting part of when a family member wasn't paying attention to me that was enough to get them to attend to me and my needs. This carried me through my life, where my family allowed me to “feel felt” at all times growing up and my general sense of well being in my life has been pretty intact. Of course there were times when the triangle was broken. These times included times like, when my mom got married or when my little brother was born. The connection to my mom was shifting because she suddenly had others to attend to and couldn't always focus on me. This led to some depressed and saddened times for me; I was not longer “feeling felt” by my mom. Luckily for me, these shifts in our relationship leveled out and we reconnected once we both got use to the

a father figure being present in my life showed. I turned to marijuana, alcohol, and sex to

Most individuals have experienced this feeling of ache in their chest—heartbreak. Despite the emotional pain they feel, heartbroken individuals are expected to function normally in their lives; however, it is not simple. What is preventing individuals from picking up the pieces of their shattered heart? It is their own mind. Markheim Heid in an article titled, “Your Brain On: Heartbreak,” asserts that being in love has the same brain chemicals as a drug addict. In short, when heartbroken individuals lose their “object of affection,” they keep craving that “chemical”—just like a drug addict wanting more (Heid). It stands to reason that the human mind affects people with a broken heart. Moreover, Guy Winch, in a 2018 Ted Talk titled, “How To

I never really got the option to have a father figure and, believe me I tried. He was never around and if he was I felt invisible. When he was in one of his moods I would know because he would walk in the house and not speak but glance at me like I was dirt. You could even say I was kidnapped from my childhood by my father. All of

Heartbreak is everywhere, from the television shows we watch, to the conversations we overhear while walking down the skidded hallways of our dear Eaton High School. In my sixteen years of life I have not had anything atrocious occur to me, but I did have my little sophomore heart broken by a boy who will not matter in ten years. It ruined my summer, and it also made a large portion of my school year miserable. I am fully aware that everyone goes through this, and that some people consider it a lousy reason to be blue, but it was the first time I knew what a broken heart felt like. This boy hurt me the most by his lies, his indecisiveness, and his newfound desire to come crawling back now.

Imagine you are a young girl and your dad never stops hitting you mom, when you try to help her he hits you too, one day you hear sirens and see the man who hurt you flung to the ground handcuffed and your mom is screaming and crying because even though she should not she still loves him. All you can thing is run, run and never look back. So, you run but the man dressed in the nice suit catches you and tells you to pack your things. They put you in a car with your trash bag of things, but rip your baby brother from your arms, the brother who you care for his every need and loved more than anything is now crying out in fear. You are continually abused and harmed by foster parents for acting out because you do not understand what is happening,

Over the years I’ve learned to cope with him never showing up, but in my heart every Christmas Eve I hope for a miracle. It doesn’t phase me as much as it probably would have if I knew him. But no, he was gone before I was born. My mother says she doesn’t blame him, yet she doesn’t tell me why he left and never came back. Sometimes I like to imagine what my dad is like.Whether he’s this big fancy rich guy that lives in New York, or if he’s just a regular guy that lives in New Hampshire. More so when I was younger, now I just think about keeping my mom happy.

A study confirmed that one's chances of dying from a heart attack increases by up to 35% following a loved one's death, making dying from a heartbreak literally possible. Love is directly linked to suffering, one not being able to exist without the other. In Nicholas Sparks novel, The Choice, love being a destructive force is demonstrated through suffering and consequences. The definition of love, by Sparks, ‘’is more than three words mumbled before bedtime. Love is sustained by action, a pattern of devotion in the things we do for each other every day.’’ It can pressure you into hazardous situations, change the way family members behave and it can ruin someone's health, both physically and mentally.

About a month after I made that decision, my mom brought a man our lives, Mark. When he first came into our house, I was under the impression that he was trying to be my dad and wanting to change my life, and I wasn’t okay with that. I knew I had a dad, and I knew that he was awful to my family, but he was always going to be my dad and no one could ever replace him. The most difficult part of having Mark live with us, was the rules changed. I wasn’t able to do things like I used too, and I wasn’t used to having my mom be loved all the time. My dad was never affectionate to us and he was never really home to see my sister, nor I, grow up. Mark was always there and never left our sides. He was affectionate towards my mom and it made me feel uncomfortable. It took me until about seven years later when I realized that he was actually trying to be nice, to show us that he was there for us whenever needed and that he wanted to help us get through the times in our lives that were tough.

Growing up, my sister would exclaim how he was an admirable man, and how he’d be able to come home and reclaim his right as our father. He would have the ability to relinquish the worries of our mind, hearing her talk about the fun times they had together made me excited to meet the man who would be the father figure I wanted. I was able to see him when I was a toddler, but after an incident at one of our meetings I wasn’t allowed to visit him anymore. I was heartbroken, at the time I was too young to understand the whole situation and how the place we were at shouldn’t become a normal setting for a kid. After that Incident, my mom would be in my ear telling me about all the awful things my father had

I want to say I was sad, but in all honestly, he was more of a tense stranger who I would see around the house than any sort of real father figure. I think that, in my childlike way, I had long ago mourned the loss of a father I never really had, so it did not make that much of a difference to me. My mom, on the other hand, became completely unhinged at my dad’s departure. She was still young and was extremely resentful and bitter that my dad was free, while she was chained to me by virtue of being my