The first symptom of love is fear because the prospect of vulnerability is terrifying.
The first symptom of love or perhaps falling in love, is fear. Fear, because you’re about to trust someone completely new — kind of like preparing to fall into a pit but you have no idea what’s in that pit really. It’s so messy and you get caught in the middle: “do i jump or do i run?”.
You’re weary of the ways of the world. You’re weary of sleep because on the threshold of sleep, you know fear is sitting at the peak of a mountain you had scaled the night before in your dreams. It sits on giant spiders or snakes or crows, butterflies, ladybugs, beetles or morning flames. Fear starts plucking your deepest insecurities and you start spiraling and going mentally insane but like unexpected rats in the dark of a room, fear runs through you during day as faith hurtles your way.
1. I’m a woman in love.
After all, there is no need to say anything and yet once inside this odd yet peaceful state of mind, your pages keep getting turned, another pen, another journal, another language. And then you have the other questions; the oh so dreaded questions: How is it to be in love? And I’d get so tense and stressed because I kept wondering “what’s the right answer?!”
2. How Love Feels
“Mark me like a passage from your favorite book, then open me there again and again”
It’s a feeling you keep diving into everyday and yet you might think that it’s soaked in familiarity and monotony, but it’s not. It’s new everyday and maybe it sounds romantic but it’s like being stroked without too much thought or it’s like one afternoon when you lie for long in a bubble bath with a glass of white wine — it’s about how everything is somehow stripped away and you’re left with soft words and all of a sudden that violent fear you once felt vanishes so easily and then all you do, is lightly give in and you feel so completely taken care of .
Love is a balancing act because being in love is where we really see ourselves again.
What’s more powerful…?
A love that grows in silence? Or a love that blooms in noise?