Falling is easy,
Especially when infatuated.
Infatuation causes a false sense of trust.
So you allow yourself to fall,
Thinking that someone of interest
Would catch you.
But they expect you to catch them.
And sooner or later,
The weight of each other is too much.
They weren't actually ready to care for someone else,
You cared too much.
You were a means to an end to them.
Whether it be you were good for their ego,
Or you were an orgasm just waiting to happen,
You didn't actually matter.
Don't worry.
I get it.
I've been there, too.
Falling is easy.
But flying is harder.
Flying is a choice.
It is making the conscious decision to let go,
To jump that cliff.
It's having enough control not to tense up
Every muscle in your body,
And brace for the inevitable impact.
Here's a secret, though:
The impact isn't inevitable.
Because when you fly, you're carrying your own weight.
And when you feel yourself faltering, you have someone who is flying with you,
Who will make sure you don't hit the ground,
And you'll do the same for them.
Because you care so much,
And even though you know the pain of losing them would be mostly temporary,
You also know it would permanently damage parts of you.
But, surprise, surprise!
They feel the same way.
You're more than hormones and pheromones and all kinds of other types of moans.
You make them a better person,
By being their best friend and so much more.
And trust me,
Flying is harder than falling.
You have to weather through storm after storm,
And cloudy days,
And lightning and thunder,
And lots of rain.
But you can do it,
For yourself.
For them.
For both of you, together.
Because, I guess the whole point is:
Falling is infatuation.
Flying is love.
And while falling is easy,
Flying is much better.