They say falling in love is the best feeling in the world, doesn’t matter if it’s falling in love with a new job or a new child or simply the cliché Romeo and Juliet love. It’s said that falling in love is the most beautiful and blissful feeling ever. The euphoria you get when knowing someone cares for you. Those butterflies in the stomach that erupts with a single touch or how your knees turn into jelly every time your ear catches their voice. Falling in love is such a complex yet simple thing. A plain meal shared together, amplifies it a thousand times better. But what happens if you fall in love at the most inconvenient time? A little too soon or maybe simply too late? Ironic how the most beautiful feeling that can hit a being can bring in the most excruciating and immense pain. Some say physical pain hurts the most yet they are fixable but then again how do you heal a broken heart?

The frosty winter wind gushed across the empty pathway, blowing pass me. I pulled my scarf to cover my nose. I tucked my hands in the pocket of my black trench coat. The shiny gold buttons shimmering under the street light. It was one in the afternoon yet the street lights shone on top of me, lighting my way through the cloudy day. The soles of my soil brown Timberlands crushing the snow on the wet ground underneath it. I inhaled the cold air, deep into my lungs. Finally a day off from my hectic work life. I brushed off the snow that fell on my head and coat before stepping into a world of beautiful craftsmanship, so full of artistry. I smiled politely at the guard by the door who bowed his head, smiling sincerely at me. I walked the rows of paintings and sculpture, admiring each and every one of them, taking a few minutes of my time to simply stare and deducing it in my own ways. As always, the art museum doesn’t get a lot of visitors unless there is a special exhibition being set up. I was happy and content to dwell in my own thoughts accompanied by the silence of the huge gallery. I got tired and decided to sit on a bench, facing a painting depicting the four seasons of a plain field. Staring at the art, the quirk of fa