What happens to a broken heart? Does it ever truly mend itself? or merely adapt to its new state?

What about a broken heart that is never morned over? Could it ever truly heal? If no one ever knows that you cry at night, could you ever stop? If no one ever sees the scares, will you ever be able to live as if you no longer have them?

People say that the things that happen to us, especially the unfortunate things, are what make us who we are? But I’m thinking, maybe thats wrong. Maybe its how we respond to those unfortunate things that make us we are, or are going to be.

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