Each night, when it felt like I was experiencing the full portion of pain, I struggled with the memories. I didn't struggle to forget, but it was the remembering that was always the hardest. I feared that soon I wouldn't be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the touch of his warm hands, or the texture of his voice. I feared that I would forget what we did together, and why. That eventually I'd only have the remembrance of the happiness, and not what it was that made me happy in the first place. Still, it hurts to much to remember, but I cannot bring myself to forget. I can't forget. I must always remember why the pain was so great, why my heart is now battered and bruised. Without that knowledge, how will I ever justify the heart break? Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget. It's a hard line to walk.
Question: Is it possible to die from a broken heart?