Love is water.
Glaciers melting in alpine fields. Grass, wildflowers, sunshine, peaceful. Little rivulets that become a slow, trickling stream. You take off your shoes, step in and begin to follow it.
It gets bigger and bigger as it goes down, faster and faster.
And then it happens. You slip and fall. Now you're being carried by the current. It carries you below the clouds, and here it is gray and dim. You notice how cold it is, and your arms and legs go numb. So cold.
Its deep now. You get pulled under the surface, and its getting harder and harder to breathe. Its growing dark. Theres a weight on your chest like a boulder. You hit your head on a rock, and there's no escaping the fact you will be dashed to pieces on the rocks.
If this isn't what kills you, then you will be swept into the vast, deep ocean where you will drown in these feelings, sink to the bottom and rot.
Love is water. You never could swim. Why did you try? You could have appreciated the beautiful scenery. You could have remembered that its not for you. You could have contented yourself with its sound.
But love is water. And you just wanted to get your feet wet. You wanted more.
And you got it.
