KAMA - Falling in love

I remember when I was a kid, I thought that falling in love was like the movies. When someone loved you, they stood outside your window with a boombox blasting Peter Gabriel. They ran past security in airport terminals because they couldn't let you get on that plane to London without first telling you the quirky but endearing things they loved about you.

As I grew up, I learned that in real life, if someone stands outside your window and won't go away, you can usually get a restraining order. And if a guy runs past airport security to try and find you, it's probably because he has a bomb. What looks like love in movies, is more like mental illness in real life. So I dismissed that kind of love as crazy and reckless.

And maybe a little beneath me. I was an educated, practical person who knew that real love was less about losing yourself to the other person and more about daily acts of kindness. That crazy love was for those people who weren't quite as smart as I was. The love I experienced was a loftier form of love.

And so it went for me. The first time I fell in love, it was the long, slow process of coming to trust and know someone intimately and while there were moments of excitement, it was generally a peaceful experience. And so I settled into this vision of love, knowing that it was the right approach. It was comfortable and safe.

And then I got knocked on my ass. At the time, I was not paying attention. He appeared in my life in the usual way - as someone to whom you pay a moment's notice before continuing on with what you were doing. And somehow within a few days time, I was unable to breathe without thinking about him. I found myself doing crazy, uncharacteristic things, like not eating or getting my work done on time so we could hang out.

I tried to reason my way out of it, but my brain peaced out on me. I tried to talk my way out of it, but it didn't matter how many times I said, "this is crazy" or "this isn't me" or "I should really put down this boombox": I couldn't stop. So I let myself fall.

There is no right or wrong way to love. Love is both the slow buildup of affection and the crazy reckless passion: the running through the airport and the quiet car ride home from the store. It just manifests itself differently for each of us throughout our lives. You can shore up your heart, but we are all eternal victims to its pull.