Falling in love is only possible on a first encounter; on the virginity of a first look, first gaze, first seduction.
After that you have to remember the first taste, you have to let your fingers rest like the classical pianist rest them on those black and white keys and let the song play in your head before your fingers follow through.
you would do well to embrace falling because if the first one was accidental, it has become intentional. Falling in love will now require preparation, slow and deep breath, gently bent knees and a look so fierce in determination that the gravity of routine can’t and won’t hold you down for too long.
Sometimes this love thing happens in shades, eye twinkles, skin brushing against skin and heart heavy silence where one mind sends to another flashes of moments. Those “you remember when” moments that only intimacy makes its different shades known.
It’s true that with time, every fall gets harder because when it comes time to getting up, you are not just bringing yourself up. No, you pull you and all of what and who has made who you are till then and sometimes between rising and standing, you get lost in the labyrinth of memories and standing never occurs.
It isn’t just youth that’s wasted on the young, love is too. Like wine, the grapes of love must have grown on a land that has received sun and rain in the right amounts and the subtle but ever present care of a guardian and finally left for forgotten for a while before it brings merriment to the heart.
Love grows in that space and in those fragile hours of naked desire, where the land extends before oneself unexplored and inviting and there’s no frontiers to how far and deep dreams could go, foraging and unearthing precious stones reserved only to gods.