What is the sound of a single heart breaking?

It is not loud and monumental, it is not the roar of a lion in the jungle as he fights for his last breath.

It is quiet, silent and stifling, hiding behind a smile that is painted on for the world to see.

What is the sound of a love's last breath?

Is it the gasping sigh of ease and absolution, full of knowledge that it had loved at all, disregarding any lingering dispute and resentment for having lost in love in the first place?

Or is it the heartwrenching sound of a ragged sob before being torn away from the tender embrace of what used to be?

Or, still yet, is it the quiet, gentle letting go, more significant than any monsoon but with no more power than the flutter of a butterfly's wing?

There is such shame in losing; but is there shame in walking away? When enough is enough, who is stronger: the one who dies in the losing battle or the one who lives to fight another day?