Falling in love was… everything.
It was like that feeling you get the night before a big field trip, where everything is buzzing and exciting and you just can’t fall asleep, no matter how tightly you shut your eyes.
Falling in love was like the sun on your face that one summer at the neighborhood pool, your best friend jumping into the deep end right beside you, with no fear or care in the world.
Falling in love was like watching the stars, lying on the grass in your backyard, waxing poetic to whoever would listen.
Falling in love was turning to your side, the phantom blades of grass sticking to your skin, itching the backs of your knees, and whispering to your best friend that you couldn’t imagine a life without him.
Falling in love was the awkward first kiss on the dock behind your house, all fumbling hands and clashing teeth, and tangled tongues.
Falling in love is the nostalgia that presses you down and chokes your breath when you think about it.
Falling in love was the silence over the phone when he said he had a girlfriend; it was the silent wracking sobs that stole your ability to speak.
Falling in love was letting go. Letting go of the summers spent chasing fireflies and each other and the feeling of being happy. Letting go of the conversations spent trying to divine the true meaning of life. Letting go of your high school selves that knew too much and not enough.
Falling in love was the last sunset of the summer before you left, and it never really felt the same after that.
Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 11:05 PM UTC
Falling in love was… everything.
It was like that feeling you get the night before a big field trip, where everything is buzzing and exciting and you just can’t fall asleep, no matter how tightly you shut your eyes.
Falling in love was like the sun on your face that one summer at the neighborhood pool, your best friend jumping into the deep end right beside you, with no fear or care in the world.
Falling in love was like watching the stars, lying on the grass in your backyard, waxing poetic to whoever would listen.
Falling in love was turning to your side, the phantom blades of grass sticking to your skin, itching the backs of your knees, and whispering to your best friend that you couldn’t imagine a life without him.
Falling in love was the awkward first kiss on the dock behind your house, all fumbling hands and clashing teeth, and tangled tongues.
Falling in love is the nostalgia that presses you down and chokes your breath when you think about it.
Falling in love was the silence over the phone when he said he had a girlfriend; it was the silent wracking sobs that stole your ability to speak.
Falling in love was letting go. Letting go of the summers spent chasing fireflies and each other and the feeling of being happy. Letting go of the conversations spent trying to divine the true meaning of life. Letting go of your high school selves that knew too much and not enough.
Falling in love was the last sunset of the summer before you left, and it never really felt the same after that.
Just a fun little prompt I found
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