It's been over a year now, but his name still does what it did to me when I first heard it. My heart keeps beating faster and I know I'm stuck. The fact is that he was the first man in my life who touched my soul. The first one that made me feel differently. Who made me feel something! Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay I changed my number after getting a new job. I kept myself busy to avoid thinking about him. I walked around aimlessly just to have peace of mind. I was so lost that I often sat alone in the park during the dark hours. I screamed out loud and hoped that someone would at least listen to me. I hid my tears in my blanket and pillow. I pounded myself at night so no one could see me. I cried for him and it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my body. I remembered the days when we spent quality time together in the park. Now it was just a space. We were arguing using a pillow. Here I am now fighting with myself. There were days when we slept on each other's laps and supported our heads on each other's shoulders. But now there was only one pair of shoulders left in the room. We were going to a restaurant. He was taking selfies and I felt so happy that I made him smile. Now when I was at the restaurant, there was no one with me. There was no happiness in my life. Our relationship lasted almost 4 years. I ran out of tears. The pillow was too wet to dry in the sun. I had lost count of the number of sleepless nights I had. After facing all the obstacles and battling depression, I decided to take control of my life. I decided to enroll in a foreign language course. I studied French. I invested my time fruitfully and kept myself busy. Time is the best healer for any type of grief. But every time I see men, I know I'm trying to find it in them. I know he is unique – one of a kind. I never again felt the same kind of love I had for him. It is said that “time and money make you feel rich but only love makes you feel worthy”. I still have all the photos we clicked together. I have everything we shared. I still remember the funny moments I shared with him. All her innocent smiles are stored in my stash. I always opened it whenever I was alone or missing him a lot. I laughed at his funny ways. I still love him like before. Don't worry about me. I will continue very well. You are the one who has to live with the guilt. Because I only lost the person I loved, but you, my darling, lost the girl who loved you the most. But now I have become a girl who doesn't care about anyone. And today I am mature and sorrows have erased the unreal shimmer of such feelings. True love is just an illusion. It never really exists. I learned it later in life, but thanks to you, I learned it well. Sad love story, essay 2 I met her in the city of love – Paris. Francine scanned the crowd, rocking on her heels. The icy hair swept through her lush, bouncy brown hair across her plump face. There was sunshine in his smile and his chocolate brown eyes awakened the butterflies in my stomach. She wore casual clothes, the ubiquitous look that all French girls wore; tight jeans,.