Susan sontag famously wrote, “Nothing is mysterious, no human relation , except love.”
No one rises in love or climbs in love. You always fall in love, because something of who you are has to go. If not the whole of you, atleast a part of you should collapse. Only then there is a love affair.
Love can be a connection to something greater than ourselves, or the thing that shows us who we really are.
It is the oldest feeling in the world, yet somehow always feels new. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you.