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It seem from the story of your heart breaking that you make from the bottom of the love pit, a foul stench. It drip on pad, but leak often, and the odorous juice wafts across the face of your most loveboy and he then says adios smellerella, I'm am staying not, for you have loved most of my family, and some of them twice, and so though I cry I may not , and just have social intercourse with many who would not be you.
I would get my virgin back, for you will need it, lest your new love would be like a man who knows not the tightness of a clean clam.
Sometimes a man dies and leaves you , after loving your manstick pocket, and then there is sadness and woe. it is in this way your are fucked, and cannot recover from the man taking the dirtnap who drilled into you mightily. I think this is when you must take on the new responsibility of dancing on the pole, so that you may receive gifts of one dollar many times during your night, and will then become fulfilled, and can still blow the meatwhistle often, and make others happy.
From then, you will be happy.
Now, please take up a large object and enter many times your stinky orchid.
As hard as it may seem, you are allowed to feel sad about the unfortunate events in your life. But don't let that become your life. The best way to heal wounds is time and to try out new things and just distract yourself as much as you can.
Honestly speaking, I think you're (just) suffering from a broken heart.
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