It happens nearly every day, several times if it’s a particularly good day. I fall in love.
The smell of wet grass, sunshine on my skin, the soft breeze coming in through my open window, the light of the moon shining through the blinds, I fall in love.
Perfectly ripe bananas and crisp green apples, unconditional pet affection, the gentleman character in a novel (…Mr. Darcy…), summer warmth, Josh Duhamel saying Basmati rice is the king of rice, foreign accents, I fall in love.
The song on the radio, the one that seems to understand me, expressing all that I can’t say, so similar to my own experience it takes my breath away and I am mesmerized, as if the singer had peeked into my dreams as I lay asleep. “Open up your mind and let me step inside” says Freddie Mercury, why is that so hard to do sometimes? Falling in love is the act of opening up, exposing bits and pieces shrouded in darkness, jumping from an airplane and praying your parachute will open and softly you’ll land onto a clear and open field where The One will be waiting, arms open wide to catch you, letting you step inside. Safe. Warm.
I fall in love.