I want to fall head over heels in love. I want to drown in it. I don’t want to be able to tell which way is up, dizzy to the point where I forget my own name. It’s been so long since I staked out such a territory in my heartspace, opened all the doors inside me to expose those inner depths. I am afraid of it, too, I must admit, for to leave oneself open like that invites so much the more injury if one is suddenly dropped, however high you have risen suddenly to fall that height. One wonders if I still remember how to do it, to let down one’s guard like that, to make oneself vulnerable to someone who is more stranger than not. Even if the chemistry makes it seem as if you’ve known each other forever and a day. But who is to say what comes of what? Where would poetry be without the hurt? Better to fall than never have been aloft, n’est-ce pas? And who knows, there is that chance it’ll work out, however miniscule it seems — miniscule unless it happens, and what you have then would it be to seem that the whole wide world is at your fingertips.