There's a reason it's called "falling" in (or out) of love

I have never liked the physical sensation of falling.  That out-of-control, heart-pounding, disorienting sensation that I AM GOING TO DIE RIGHT NOW.  But then your foot hits the next step, and turns out that was only a 7-inch heart attack.  Or the roller coaster ride is over, and life returns to normal.  But when it's an emotional falling, it's far, far, worse.  

You can't see where the floor actually is to know you'll only be suffering for however long it takes your lost foot to travel the 7 unexpected inches to the next step.  You can't see the end of the track to tell yourself, "ok, just one more exhilarating high climbing that hill, and one more unbearable, stomach-churning drop, then I'll be ok."  With emotions, you just fall, twisting and turning, hoping something will appear on the horizon that you can fix your gaze on to get your bearings back and estimate how much longer you'll be floating, untethered, unsecured and insecure, dreading the landing.

The only recurring dream I have had throughout my life (truly, since childhood) has been one where the dream begins and I am already mid-flight.  Or more accurately, I think it's mid-jump. I must have decided to jump off of something, a roof, a steep flight of stairs, the edge of a cliff, whatever.  The dream begins and I am already airborne, but not soaring gloriously through the air.  I'm plummeting.  Madly.  Like gravity has a grudge against me for trying to defy it, and it just found me cowering in the corner and is about to beat my ass BAD.  

And that's exactly how the dream ends.  Every. Single. Time. For the past 40 years, every time I have the 'falling' dream, it ends with the hint of a violent impact that of course causes me to jerk awake before it can kill me in the dream, gasping for air, sweating, clutching the covers, and usually scaring at least 3 cats off the bed.  

I'll move on from the dream, since I know it's considered extremely gauche to discuss one's own dreams.  Social faux pas.  But the relevance here is that in life, the fall always ends, and we (usually) live through it.  In the dream, I don't know what happens, but it jars me to the core every time.  Exactly like an emotional falling.  Whether you are falling in or out of love with someone or something (a job, a hobby, etc.), you really never can predict how it's going to end.  Sure, you can TELL yourself, "ok, I'm going to allow myself to get 'x' level of involved/invested in this person/pastime, but NO MORE THAN THAT."  If you think you can actually control an end result when emotions are involved, you are either accustomed to being in control of everything and everyone around you (or at least thinking you are, since none of us can truly control anything beyond ourselves), or you are very very young and inexperienced at life.  Or delusional.  That option always exists too.

The problem with emotional falling is that it's much like my dream - it begins when you aren't expecting it or looking for it, sometimes before you're even aware that it's happening.  Like stepping in a pothole in a completely dark alley.  Disorienting.  Jarring.  Alarming.  But boy, does it get the adrenaline going, eh?  One minute you're just strolling along, enjoying the night, minding your own business, then BAM!  You are WIDE awake, possibly lying on the ground, or rubbing your twisted ankle, going "WTF just happened!?"  You might even be a little bit angry.  The nerve of that pothole being there when I wasn't looking for it!  (I get pissed at all kinds of inanimate objects for their perceived malicious actions.)

I guess that's just how life happens to us.  Sometimes you're not looking for anything at all, you're just doing your thang, and BAM!  Someone causes you to fall.  You get sucked in like they are a black hole, a vortex of adrenaline and adventure and terror that is so exhilarating, you barely even flail around trying to regain your balance.  You may even cling to them for stability while you're trying to get your bearings.  Which is nice.  Feels safe.  Until they, too, realize that you're BOTH falling, with no safety net, and they let go of you so they can stick their arms out and create a feeling of protection for themselves with no regard whatsoever to the fact that now you're plummeting alone again.

If you're really unlucky, you might land first, and they land on top of you, Acme anvil style, flattening you out completely like a cartoon character.  And may even lay the blame on the fall squarely on your head as well.  Clearly they wouldn't have fallen as hard if your extra gravity hadn't pulled them in!  You may have even tripped them in the first place!  They will continue to try to flatten your spirit as they refuse to take responsibility for their own private gravity field that is in effect whether you're with them or not.  

But sometimes, they own their part in it, and realize that they would've gone down with or without you.  If you're lucky enough to have fallen with someone like this, maybe they help you get up off the ground and brush yourself off, smile at you, and tell you they're glad that at least the two of you are at the bottom of this hole together, so you can start figuring out how to get out of it.  Together.

Those are rare, though.  It's usually just me and the anvil at the bottom of the hole at the end of the day.

THIS is a link to a much nicer perspective of what it's like to fall.  Sadly, I'm not there right now.

And THIS is a link to someone whom I think may just be a kindred spirit.  We share the same kind of folly, always vulnerable to the whims of infatuation, knowing it, and yet being either unwilling or just unable to change that seeming character flaw.  So we both embrace it.  

If I'm gonna fall, I'm going down BIG.  There will be bruises.  It will (eventually) be funny.  I'm gonna own that shit, one way or the other.  I hope there's some kind of twisted beauty in knowing one of my major faults (that hurts myself more than anyone else, so it's not THAT bad, right?) yet embracing it rather than working against my nature to change it.  At the end of the day, I guess that's my 40-some years of hard-earned self-acceptance finally standing its ground.  Yeah, I fall.  I fall hard. But I will always help those who end up at the bottom of the hole with me.  I'm a good person to fall with.