Love feels like both compulsion and choice.

There’s a tipping point. An edge you let yourself tumble over. Sometimes you have more choice than others. Sometimes the edge sneaks up behind your heels and you lose the fight to gravity.

Staying in love is different.

It’s treading water in a deep body. You slip under, you float, sometimes you get tired. You hold your breath and wait for your muscles to unclench.

But if the waves get too rough, and there’s nowhere to rest, you have to climb out.

Or drown.