A heart that doesn’t know how to break

A possible rant/ poem/ story?
Don’t really know what’s going on anymore.
It’s as if, after a lot of pain, heartbreaks emphasis on “s”, my heart still falls in love again, knowing well it cannot sustain the pain of breaking again. Wonder why that is? Is it the curse of being a hopeless romantic, if it is I only wish I never had it. Not the curse but even just the ability to never be able to love, to always remain detached, singular, by myself. People come, only to leave these days. And for a while I was content with making peace with the fact it’s my shit luck that no amount of healing, awareness can ever stop that from happening.
Though my title is a heart that doesn’t know how to break, the truth to it would be a heart that has run out its course long ago. But since life keeps going, the pain just seems to repeat and repeat again. Never stopping. My guess would be, a heart that has died way long ago, but it’s life that happens that it creates an illusion it’s still alive.