When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. When a wall shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls of the wall it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, its completely silent. You would think as its so important it would make the loudest noise in the world, or even some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. But its silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.
If there is a noise, its internal. It screams and no one can hear it but you. It screams so loud your ears ring and your head aches. It thrashes around in your chest like a great white shark caught in the sea; it roars like amother bear whose cub has been taken. That's what it looks like and that's what it sounds like, a thrashing, panicking, trapped great big beast, roaring like a prisonor to its own emotions. But thats the thing about love - no one is untouchable. It's as wild as that, as raw as an open flesh wound exposed to salty sea water, but when it actually breaks, it's silent. You're just screaming in the inside and no one can hear it..
If You could See Me Now, Cecelia Ahern (Pg. 250)