There’s a phrase in the English language that makes no sense to me even though I’ve used it hundreds of times: “falling in love.”
Certainly there must be a better way to describe one of the sweetest feelings a human being can have. Falling isn’t exactly the word we associate with great experiences. The stock market falls. The temperature falls. Civilizations fall. When I’m clumsy, I fall on my face.
Nobody in their right mind really wants to fall. Love, on the other hand, is like flying or rising or being lifted up.
Then again, if you stop to think about it, the phrase “falling in love” makes some sense — because the act of falling ends in “hitting bottom.” The phenomenon is all too recognizable. You meet someone special. Your heart opens. You’re flying, you’re free, you’re feeling no pain — not unlike the feeling of weightlessness that comes from falling.
Sometimes, however, the falling ends. You land. Hard. The object of your devotion proves less than unconditional. Their attentions drift. And so begins the painful process of falling out of love.
It doesn’t have to be that way.
There IS a love that is unconditional. There is a love that only gets better with time — a love that neither disappoints or disillusions. A love that is reasonable and will always be willing.
As a result, I am flying in love.
I have a partner in crime who loves me for me, doesn’t expect me to change, and treats me like the princess I always dreamed of being. It’s not that he thinks I’m perfect; it’s that he’s wise enough to spend most of his time reminding me why he loves me, instead of “fixing” what he doesn’t.
In exchange, he gets the full force of my love and devotion.
For more inspiration on love, visit my Flying in Love! board on Pinterest