15 Ways To Fix A Broken Heart

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  • Published: 12 Mar 2013
  • Updated: 10 Apr 2013
  • Status: Complete
I was, and still are, weird. Yes, my friends are the craziest people you'll ever meet. And yes, I was proud of that small insignificat fact. I thought he was too. But he wasn't, his type never are. I was played with and then made to be broken. Then I found it, The Book. It healed me, this simple book with 15 ways to fix a broken heart.
Copyright (C)
*For the World Book Day App Competition*


12. Take This

From: Trent

Levi, talk to me

I ignore the fifth text I've gotten from him since yesterday.

From: Trent

I'm not apologetic about yesterday

You may not be Trent, but I am. I'm apologetic because I might actually like you now. But I know what everyone would say if I told them I like you. They'd think that I'm a stupid little girl who likes someone because of one, small, stupid kiss. Well, they'd be wrong. It wasn't just some kiss. It was a kiss that made me see that a person out there might love me the way I thought Lewis loved me. It was a kiss that made me see that I loved that person just as much. The only downside: that person was you Trent. Everyone, including me, would think that you're just another Lewis.

From: Trent

Why don't you talk to me?

If it only it were that simple.

"Levi! Hurry up, you're going late for school!" Mom yells. I slip my phone back into my pants' pocket and shuffle out the door. I go the opposite direction from where I usually go; which would be past Main Street and to the left. Instead I go around the Main road, to the right, and keep walking. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm still holding The Book. The leather cover is slippery in my sweaty hand as I turn around to see if anyone's following me. I forgot that I was reading it last night. I hesitantly open it again.


I've been scared of many things.

This is where I left off.

And many of them were stupid. I was scared of spiders at one point. And bears. But there has only been one that left me scared stiff. That fear was, and still is, losing time.

I'm dying. We all are, some faster than others. I'm one of them. I'm dying and there's no changing that. What, but more specifically who, I'm leaving behind is what I'm scared of. I'm scared that they won't love again. That they won't feel again because of me. I'm not being conceited, I don't think that I'm some big shot and stuff. I'm just saying that because if those people left me, I wouldn't be able to love again. The feeling is so vivid that it hurts. That's why I'm writing this. To help whoever else is sad, broken, or scared.

I'm a big believer in the phrase "Live for the moment because everything else is uncertain". I'm sure you've heard about it. It doesn't mean to party till you pass out or anything, or I want to believe it doesn't mean that. Anyways, to me it means to not be scared about what's gong to happen in a few days, months, years. Live, love, now because you don't know what's gonna happen in the morning. Live life to the fullest now, so in the morning you won't have any regrets.

I snap The Book shut and stuff it in my bag. Can I really just forget everything that's ever happened in the past and love Trent now? No, I don't think I can handle that. But The Book says I should... No, I mentally yell at myself. Taking advice from a book that was mailed to you from some stranger is not going to solve all my problems, although they sort of have so far. And what did the writer mean by "I'm dying"? Was he or she sick? My thoughts flit away as I see the school emerge in front of me. I hurry up the stone steps and into my first class before meeting Trent.


"So now that we're done with our reading assignment, we will be starting our section on poetry," says Mrs. Nona and I catch a smile from Jason. He's been waiting for this section for ages.

"Get into groups of two and start writing individual poems. You and your partner may choose to write about the same topic. Start writing people!" chirps Mrs. Nona as she practically runs to her desk to start playing games on her phone. I can hear the sounds all the way from my seat at the back of the class.

The class pairs up and seats are rearranged. Jason and I pair up while Sia and Chris immediately stick together. I don't know who Trent pairs up with though I see him sit with Andrea, a pretty blond. A small pinprick of jealousy stabs me but I manage to shake it off. Anna and Sammi partner up while Rick and Sylvie are stuck together. I give a thumbs-up to Rick and he flushes an even deeper red. Poor Rickson.

"So, what do you want to write about?" Jason asks, pencil poised over his paper. I shrug, unsure of what to choose.

"Well, I'm writing about people," Jason shrugs. I nod slowly and eventually start writing my own poem. It didn't take a long time, maybe ten minutes. And it was short to boot. I shrug at my mediocre work, Jason'll write something way better.

"Okay class, it's time to reveal the poems to the class. Don't worry though, it won't count towards your grades. This only a practice for what's to come!" Mrs. Nona says brightly. I start to panic, I didn't anticipate that we'd have to read it aloud for the class.

"Trent, Andrea. You're up." They both walk to the front of the class, Andrea sauntering up while Trent does a little panicked run. So unlike Trent. Where's the cool confidence, the cockiness that he took everywhere he went? His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is a mess. A cute, disorganized mess but a mess all the same. His clothes are disheleved and they look like the same ones from yesterday. Did he beat himself up afer I left?

"Andrea, you may begin." And she does. She goes on, but I don't hear her words. I focus on Trent. Everytime I try to peel my eyes away, they snap back to him. Obsessed, that's what my eyes are, obsessed with the thought of him. My chest tightens, I'm not going to moon over him like I did to Lewis. I'm not going to be shot down again.

Trent catches me staring and I blush. His eyes fall on my lips and like me, he's probably thinking about how yesterday changed everything. He shakes his head slighly and grips the paper in his hand harder, crunching the paper. I pull my eyes away and focus on the window, and nothing but the window.

"That was a, um, worthy effort Andrea," says Mrs. Nona. My snap back to Trent. Oh God. "You're up Trent." He looks at me straight on, his black eyes piercing me, killing me. And then he begins.

"Take the breath from my lungs

Take the stars from my eyes

Take the hope that's still lingering

And crush it apart

Take the words from my pen

Take the touch from my fingers

Take the love that still here

And tear it to shreds

Now there's nothing left

In this body of mine

Because you've taken all

In that beautiful goodbye"



Every word he said, every breath he took I felt it. I felt that same thing that happened yesterday. I felt loved, for the second time in my life, I felt truly loved. This time, I don't push it away. Then Trent walks up to me, gripping my arm and dragging me out of the classroom. I let myself be dragged, let myself let go again. To my surprise, no one stopped him. Everyone was too shocked at his poem. So was I.

"Levi, we need to talk."


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