Face Plant

Falling is funny; most of the time people use the metaphor to ask, "Are you going to catch me?" In many situations, it's hit or miss, black or white, right or wrong, catch or fall, etc. It's even more frustrating for me to hear some say:

Don't fall for me, I won't catch you...

Personally, I'm not the type of guy to say something like that. If you fall for me, I'm more likely to catch you, put you on your feet, brush the dirt off your clothes, tie your shoes, tell you to watch your step, and send you on your way while I'll go mine; I've heard that I'm too nice.

I'm not sure which is more troubling: Having somebody catch you while you hold on or hitting rock bottom and see them walk away. I guess this is how they define what a "gentleman" is versus a "jerk."

Maybe this answers the life question that so many guys ask, "Why do they like jerks?" Some see relationships like ripping off band-aids: if they're hurt they rather have it quick and excruciating while others rather have it slow and more sparse out.

Going along the metaphor of "falling," I've noticed that some fall quick and hard but pop right back up; while on the other side, some hardly fall at all but when they do, it's impossible for them to stand once more. Label these two categories whichever way you want; personally I don't think that's the key point here. The important fact is that either way you fall, in the end, it hurts; it hurts a lot.

Being the over analytical person, I just wanted to break down this metaphor. I don't fall often; in fact, if I were to count how many real crushes I've had, it'd probably be only two. However, when I do fall, I don't think "falling" is the right word to describe myself...

... It's more like I trip unexpectedly, do an extremely hard face plant, slide down a cold slope thus creating a huge snowball with my body inside it, fall over cliff down hundreds of feet onto a metal ramp yet somehow breaking free of the snowball while standing, and launch myself off the into the skies helplessly waving my arms in the air until I finally hit the floor head first with my legs sticking up in the air as I sink deeper into the quicksand with my whole body broken making it impossible to move or get out... I think that's a good way to describe it.

If I could change the chemicals in my brain to fall more often, I probably would so that I wouldn't seem like the person who will "never find anybody good enough for them." Look, I love and enjoy everybody that I meet and treat them exactly how I would with anyone else; I am truly sorry if my brain can't seem to develop feelings (not saying that someone has "fallen" for me right now; this is just for future reference).

So if I do fall for somebody, I'd rather much say, "I've face planted for you."

...

... and yes, right about now, I think "I've face planted for you."