And one day, when your swollen eyes will be tired of keeping shut, when your weak fingers will find their way up to your face to touch your tear-stained cheeks, when your cold ears will long for warmth, when your legs will try to pick themselves up after falling on your knees a thousand times, when your stomach will feel absolutely empty when it realizes that the butterflies flew out days ago, when your lips will long for water and your skin will beg you for fresh air, you will get out of that room of that house, and you’ll start walking.
Unknown roads, unknown people, unknown flowers, unknown destination. You will just walk, carrying the weight of your broken pieces, dragging them with you, one step at a time, not knowing where to take them, whom to ask for a band-aid, whom to tell the story to and whom to hide from.
You’ll notice people on your way — happy, in love, sad, broken, upset, angry, lusting, ranting, screaming, crying, begging, living, some emotionless, some full of every emotion but love and many more. And just when you think you’re the only one who’s broken, who’s vowed to not fall in love ever again, you will realize how every unknown person that you saw on the road was a landscape of a kind. They deserved to be looked at long and hard.
And you are one of them, too. You, beautifully broke human, you are to be admired. Everything you’ve faced is a hue of the landscape that you are.
So keep walking, and you’ll find the right pair of eyes who’ll take time to look at you, long and hard. And then, you won’t be afraid of his absence, you won’t be afraid about your last kiss, you won’t be afraid of anything because by the time you catch him looking, he would’ve been lost in the beautiful landscape that he’s looking at — YOU.