I was thinking 1+2 when I wrote this, because I always am, but really it could be anyone.
It was like free-fall; nine-point-eight meters per second per second.
Ten meters is nothing from space to earth, and nine-point-eight meters
in a second won't take you any closer to the planet. Not at first.
Exponential growth creeps up on you, you know It isn't until the air
screams around you and the blue-and-green horizons swallow out the
void and all you can see is Earth, Earth; that's when you realize
you're falling and you won't be able to stop.
That was how slowly it started, this thing of falling in love. It started as a grudging acceptance of his presence; I could work with him, that was fine, but I didn't particularly like him. I didn't notice when it changed to the casual comfortable relationship that was so very deceptive because I didn't notice that every new step was easier. That every day I trusted him more than the day before that, and the day before that, and I was falling free before I even noticed my feet had left the ground.
And the blue swallows out the blackness --
Every day I fly higher.
It isn't the fall that I fear, but the sudden stop at the end. I can't stop loving him, and it frightens me, just a little. Even if I wanted to, even if I was that strong, if I tried to cut him out of my life now I know the shock would kill me. So I just hold him, and try desperately not to think about the end. It's worth it. Anything is worth this, this weightlessness, this glorious vertigo, even though it means I've lost all control.
Nine-point-eight meters per second per second.
Deeper and deeper every day.
That's how fast I fall.
~owari~