Best 150 quotes in «breaking up quotes» category

If you can't work it out together then let each other go freely. You loved her once. She is still that same person. Think of that person you once loved. She is that person whether you are together or not.

If you don't love yourself it's tough to love anything about your life. Appreciating who you are is essential to your happiness.

I had to break up with Medusa. I just got sick of buying mice for her hair. I should have ended it sooner, but you try looking into those eyes.

I have been where you are now. I have felt the fears and resolved them. I have had the doubts and concerns and found the way forward. Lift up your head, and step ahead...

I know we have been together for a long time, but I just can't get you off my mind so I think it is best to be apart, but we can still be friends so please don't be mad at me that we have to break up I am sorry but it's over between us.:(

I knew this for a fact. Little by little, the ache to see him, to hear him would disappear. Little by little I’d forget how his arms felt, how his fingers felt, how his lips felt..the sound of his voice, the intensity of his gaze, all of it. Trace by trace it would slip from my mind, recede into foggy memory. The painful haze that dulled my present would melt into the past. Maybe not all the way, maybe there would be a few scars. Maybe I'd be different, but I’d be me again. Little by little.

I loved you when I left you.

I love him. So much. To the point where you won’t understand. You don’t get it because I don’t get it. It’s there. It exists. It flows. It moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it’s always there. And when you find love like that, you don’t want to give it up. But sometimes you have to and sometimes you have to give it to someone else. That’s the hard part.

I looked at you for two and a half years I didn't see you.

I miss your smile… but I miss mine more.

indelible waiting l'art poetique "..I will wait for the night to chase me..." I sit on a rock and watch children playing in the park below They don't see me Or know my thoughts Or that you haven't called But I forgive them their indifference today Above me a crow caws Perhaps he smells the crumbs on my dress Or my anger But he flits away over the trees Probably has a home Probably has a wife Probably knew to call The children leave The coffee in my can turns cold The wind nips at me Some street lights flicker on But I won't move Not yet I will wait for the night to chase me Back where I came from Up the empty street To a quiet house

I have a horrid scar right under my left knee from you. Well, the absence of you. Seems appropriate. But I still miss you. My pillowcase smells like you, so I bury my face in it and breathe it in. Things feel empty. My couch, my living room, my heart. I see pictures of things. Silly things, beautiful things, and I want to share them with you. But alas, I cannot, I do not, I press the red button when you call.

I loved him to death. Then I came to realization with how arrogant he was and instead of falling out of love, I fell harder. Every passing day I fell a little harder, a little faster, and a little sadder. I became anxious, obsessive, hurt, and sad. But one morning I awoke to realize I fell out of it. I loved him. I still do. But I was in love with him until the death of the relationship. Now I just love him. From afar. From the knowledge. From the happiness an individual gave me.

In this story I am the poet You're the poetry.

I played until my lips gave out on cigarettes and thoughts of you.

I rein myself in. I’m already breaking up with the guy. I don’t have to ruin his favorite movie.

I sit on a rock and watch children playing in the park below They don't see me Or know my thoughts Or that you haven't called But I forgive them their indifference today Above me a crow caws Perhaps he smells the crumbs on my dress Or my anger But he flits away over the trees Probably has a home Probably has a wife Probably knew to call The children leave The coffee in my can turns cold The wind nips at me Some street lights flicker on But I won't move Not yet I will wait for the night to chase me Back where I came from Up the empty street To a quiet house

I stood in your doorway this morning dreaming you’d turn around you’d tilt your head you’d softly whisper ”stay” or that you’d grab my arms to shake me while asking what the hell are we doing we love each other and this is not right so we will make this work now stay! You poured your coffee. Stirred the spoon like a crystal man with your back to me and not a sound. the fridge humming elegies while the clock ticked on and the streets are so clean here people rushing to work and maybe I should be too by now at this age this stage this town. I will stand in that doorway dreaming for many nights to come.

I'm dumping the whole box back into your life Ed, every item of you and me. I'm dumping this box on your porch, Ed, but it's you, Ed, who is getting dumped.

It has been said that with every great love we have, a little piece of our souls is left behind after the cleaving.

I thought we were perfect for each other." "There's no such thing as perfect," Eli commiserated.

It is difficult to move on when your surroundings stay the same.

It is generally anger dreams that occupy my nights now. This is not uncommon after loss of love— blue and black and red blasting the crater open. I am interested in anger.

I pop, I break, I love and I crave, but when push comes to shove, we’re done.

It’s easy to fall in love, Ben. The hard part comes when you want out.

It's not you it's me' she couldn't use that line. Even though it really was her and not him, everyone thought that line really meant, 'it's not me. It's definitely you.'  There was still a part of her that thought perhaps she shouldn't do it at all. In Andrew she had all the raw ingredients for a perfect life. Here was a grown-up, good-looking, solvent, generous, warm-hearted man who adored her. A man who adored her even when she looked like the loch ness monsters little sister and had a terrible temper to match. It didn't take a huge leap of imagination to see Andrew standing at the top of the aisle, looking back at lou walking towards him with a grin as wide as the English channel. She could see him painting the nursery yellow; pushing a pram that contained two lovely brown haired twins (one boy, one girl); presenting her woth an eternity ring on their tenth anniversary, taking the twins to school, teaching them how to play football on long, summer holidays in Tuscany, giving the daughter away at her own wedding, cosying up to Lou on the veranda of their perfect house as their retirement stretched ahead of them- a long straight road of well-planned for, financially comfortable and perpetually sunny days.  'oh god' Lou poured herself a vodka.

It was as if we were having two different conversations. Which wasn’t that surprising after all, as we were clearly having two entirely different experiences of breaking up. His was soft, cushioned; Jude and his friends had broken his fall. Mine was cold, empty and bereft. I was freefalling in space and time, with nobody standing by to stop me hurtling headlong into obscurity.

It was fortunate that I had not already yielded to the temptation to break with Albertine; the tedium of having to rejoin her presently, when I went home, was a trifling matter compared with the anxiety that I should have felt if the separation had occurred when I still had a doubt about her and before I had had time to grow indifferent to her.

It seemed funny that one day I would go to bed in her arms and the next not feel anything, like a switch had gone off. But no, that wasn’t honest either. This had been building for a long time. Our silences were getting longer. Our arguments more frequent. How do you stay with someone when there are no dreams to build? No purpose to accomplish? No meaning? No meaning —that was the monster that drove us away from one another in the end. Always.

Love is the mystery between two people, not the identity. We were at the opposite poles of humanity. Lily was humanity bound to duty, unable to choose, suffering at the mercy of social ideals. Humanity both crucified and marching toward the cross. And I was free, I was Peter three times the renounce, determined to survive whatever the cost. I still see her face, her face staring, staring into the darkness as if she were trying to gaze herself into another world. It was as if we were locked in a torture chamber still in love, yet chained to opposite walls. Facing each other for eternity, but for eternity unable to touch. Of course, as men always will, I tried to extract some hope from her that she would wait for me, not judge me too quickly, such things. But she stopped me with a look, a look I shall never forget. Because it was almost one of hatred. And hatred in her face was like spite in the Virgin Mary's. It reversed the entire order of nature.

Love, the exotic bird, came and went. Heart forgot love. Joy, the majestic willow, wept and died. Mind forgot joy. Hope, the basement lamp, fell and broke. Soul forgot hope. Self, the anxious caterpillar, took flight and dropped. Self forgot self. You, my all, became all my reasons. Reasons left. You left. I never forgot.

Maybe we needed to break a little, so we could put ourselves back together more beautifully than before.

Now I think of breaking up as moving. Imagine you have your own house, full of your own boxes. A person you meet has his own house, full of his own boxes. When you have a relationship with that person, you shack up in a third house, into which you can each put any number of your boxes. You shouldn't move them all in at once, or else you will seem too eager. And don't dawdle too much either, or you will seem skittish about commitment. You kind of aim to match each other's pace, so that the power balance feels fair and equal. Happy marriage--at least ideally--would be the situation in which both parties enthusiastically choose to keep all of their boxes in their shared house. Conversely, when someone starts to doubt the relationship, he might move a box or two back into his own house, just in case. While he's weighing his options, he may transport a few more boxes to the safety of his own home. When he's ready to take back his final few boxes, he breaks up with you. If you were too infatuated to see it coming, there you are, with all of your boxes in the shared house, and none in the security of your own home.

Once, a great handful of a girl out west told him - I never did love you. […]How mean of her to salve her spit curled conscience by trying to take away their past! In the kitchen he had started to use those very words on Lou - they sprang readily to mind, as wounding words do - but he stopped himself.

One day they'll realize they lost a diamond while playing with worthless stones.

Oh, I said 'I'm so happy, I could die.' She said 'Drop dead,' then left with another guy.

Sometimes we have to participate in our own rescue and choose to love some people at a distance.

Sure, occasionally a certain sappy song or romantic movie would come on, and you’d wonder what he or she was up to, but there was no way to know. Of course, you could always pick up the phone (and more recently, text or e-mail), but that would require that person’s knowing you were thinking of him or her. Where’s the fun in that? You never want them to know you’re thinking of them, so you refrain. Before long the memories start to fade. One day, you realize you can’t quite remember how she smelled or the exact color of his eyes. Eventually, without ever knowing it, you just forget that person altogether. You replace old memories with new ones, and life goes on. It was the clean break you needed to move forward.

The actuality that the heart does not want to feel, doesn't negate the certitude that it once felt and will still feel.

The best thing about a heartbreak, you start looking for happiness elsewhere. You realize like wild flowers, happiness can grow anywhere and everywhere. And, most importantly within you. Be wild, dear heart, happiness awaits you.

The best way to get OVER one is to get UNDER one

The most hardest thing in life is letting go of the person whom you dearly love.

The most surprising thing about breaking up is that you already know how to do it. Everything you need to know, you learned in kindergarten. Yours should always be better than his (especially when it comes to lawyers).

The only person you should ever fear losing in a relationship is you yourself.

The only thing that will ever be real, is this moment,' I turned to the statue, 'when you made me feel alive, when you made me feel real, when I felt like you really love me. Now? I'm just your monster, Frankie. I will always be a monster.

There isn't much difference between "giving" and "leaving". While the former will ALWAYS come back to you, the latter will only do if it was meant to be yours in the first place.

There was also closeness, for the end of a couple is like a death, and the notion of death, of temporariness, can remind us of the value of things.

The test of any relationship is, when the going gets tough, whether your partner stays with you or 'gets going'.

The thing with breaking up is they leave, but the memories stay.

The words come out of my mouth, but they don’t sound like me. I don’t sound like me. Probably because I know it’s all lies. But I can see that they’re lies that Reeve believes. He swallows them whole. His eyes go blank. Empty. He completely shuts down.