Why do we call it falling in love?
Because it’s unexpected, unplanned, unpredictable, unintentional, unavoidable, irreversible, uncontrollable, disorienting, not particularly graceful, downright awkward. Because it takes us deep down, ready or not, makes us vulnerable, leaves us breathless and disheveled and maybe bruised, shakes our sense of direction, scatters our belongings, shatters our composure, scrambles our words, rearranges our schedules. Because it brings us to a level where we see things from a different angle, puts us in a position of reaching for a hand up, insists that we take a minute.
Sometimes, it sends us sprawling and no one even notices, and we dust ourselves off and move on quietly with what shreds of our dignity remain. On occasion, it lands us at the feet of some kind soul who will help us to both laugh at ourselves and pick ourselves up. And once in a miraculous lifetime, it throws us into the arms of that one person on earth who is for us, only for us, for right that very moment, for all time.