the extraction

She doesn't like people being late for business meetings, never mind dinner dates. I'd stood her up. Not intentionally. Not out of any malice but out of love. Imagine not meeting someone because you loved them so much. Imagine hurting someone, making them feel lonely, angry and unloved beacause you think it's best for them.

I don't know what is going on with us. I have enough worries and I have enough pain as it is and I am not volunteering myself for any more.

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

extracted from Cecelia Ahern's if you could see me now