Love is like planting a seed and you are a soil in a ***.

At first you'll feel uncomfortable with the new thing inside you.
we always even ask why we did plant the seed  to begin with.
it is beautiful? Colorful? tiny, big round? a lot of question is asked.
but when we unraveled the reason why, we invest in it. we make sure that the seed inside us is filled with care and and protection. we make sure that it is well taken care off.away from those who want to steal it. we always check how its day went. We always want to have time for it alone.
And as it grows, its root spread in our identity to the point it becomes yours. the soft and the hard part,its twist, its spikes, its fruit is yours. to the point that you can even consider this seed as you.You know even the most basic part of it, those which is unnoticed by others.

But sometimes, inevitable things happen, the birds have to leave the nest and so are plants, they have to be rooted to grow on wider field of life. and when that happens, the *** soil is leaved with nothing but destroyed parts, wrecked with pain and emptiness, pain filled with lost purpose and identity.
You are now nothing more than an abandoned withered thing.

You can feel the emptiness within, the space where the plant used to root. Spaces it used to fill. All just traces of the past now.