Falling In White Water.

I decided this about six months ago.  And I just decided I think it's still true.


Falling in love is like white water rafting.
You scout the run.
Weigh the options. Calculate the consequences if your 'scales' are a bit off.
You can scout a run for hours.  Check things out from every angle, but until you actually get in the river and make the run you won't know what you are getting yourself into.

Falling in love is like white water rafting.
The bigger the hits, the more scared you are.
The bigger the hits, the more fun you have.
When you fall out of your raft, it's hekka crazy.
You have no idea where you are.  You're getting water in your nose and it's real loud.  And there's a good chance you're going to jack your knee on a rock.  Real hard.
Hopefully you find a tow-line and haul yourself back into the boat.  At which point your exhausted, full of river water, and have some wicked bruises.
Maybe this 'swimming' thing wasn't the best idea.
Maybe you should have spent more time weighing.
You can scout a run for hours.  Check things out from every angle, but until you actually get in the river and make the run you won't know what you are getting yourself into.

But the craziest part is that, when your gashes stop bleeding, you regain your bearings, and dry out a little bit, you just want to do it again.  Because all you remember is the rush.
The bigger the hits, the more scared you are.
The bigger the hits, the more fun you have.
You're always a little scared going into it, and that's why you do it.

Falling in love is like white water rafting.
The similarity is a little bit awesome.
But mostly really crappy.
At least you've got some cool scars to show for it, eh?