I hate the term “falling in love” because by definition it makes you helpless. Falling is the act of being without ground and finally hitting it. With a drop like that, mathematically speaking, you will die or be seriously maimed. One way or another, it’s not going to be a pretty sight for anyone.
Preferably, I go for the standing strong and catching them as they fall in love with me. My love for them is already there and when they’re about to hit the ground of reality, they can be truly assured that I’m there and they land gracefully into my arms and that no matter what I’ll carry them wherever I go.
You’re different though. You’ve bent my own laws against me and I don’t know if you’re standing on ground or falling with me through time and space. This uncertainty of velocity, pressure, reality and the all of it combined makes my stomach force up to my throat and my back of my eyes stretch as the force of air resistance hits my face and tries to slow me down as I fall through this vortex of emotion and obstacles that hit me on the way down.
Maybe that’s what makes you so special, the fact that no matter how prepared and cool and confident and grounded I may be, your presence shakes the earth beneath my feet and I drop.
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