So here's the thing about broken hearts - no matter how hard you try to fit the pieces back together, you'll never be able to restore it to its original shape.
And so, after a while, you give up trying.
But him and I were different - we were puzzle pieces, made for each other to fit in the most intimate ways.
Sadly, it's not long before a puzzle is ripped apart and you start over, putting together a new one.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I think he had screamed, but I couldn't hear him over the loud music.
"What?" I scream back, and his hands grip my hips as I stumble over my own two feet, the drink well in my system at this point.
"I said, what are you doing here?"
When I just giggle and throw my head back, he shakes his head and his eyebrows furrow, and he takes my hand in h
