Falling Hard

I have no idea what this is, honestly. I had writer's block, and this kept popping into my head. So therefore, it can just sit here until I figure out if I can do anything with it.

     I'd never fallen in love before. I mean, honestly, it's a bit daft to fall in love more than once, don't you think? Truly falling in love means you've found your soulmate. And everyone only has one soulmate. If someone could have more than one soulmate, then it wouldn't be a soulmate, would it?

     That's why so many marriages end in divorce, I think. Because people settle. They don't want to spend time looking for the one person who can truly understand them. They just want to have sex. A lot of it.

     But that's not the point. The point is, I'd never been in love before. So I didn't know what it felt like. My parents tried to explain it to me, as did my aunts and uncles, and my grandparents. My cousin and her fiance tried to explain it too. But they couldn't. So I'd decided that love couldn't be explained. You just sort of...knew. When you were in love, that is.

     And, though nobody believed it originally, I knew. I knew that I was in love with him. I didn't know how, I just knew. From the feelings I felt when I was around him. From the feelings I felt when he was gone. From the feelings I felt every time someone said his name. I knew.

     Of course, I didn't know at first. When I first met him, there wasn't fireworks. I didn't feel butterflies in my stomach. My palms didn't get all sweaty. I didn't blush (well, maybe I did, but that's how I reacted to all boys back then).

     The first time I met him, I didn't know that I was in love with him. It took a while for me to fall in love with him. But when I fell, I fell hard.