To fall.

I fall in love in damp, dark barns with dust hanging in the air. I fall in love whispering to the blackness and letting my words just fall on your ears. I fall in love when the sun is settling at nightfall and my delicate and ruined fingers are intertwined with yours. I fall in love with simplicity and quiet words that have meaning deaper than the voice that spoke them. I fall in love with horses heaving loggy breathes and a calf on the end of the rope. I fall in love with anything that speaks to my soul. I've fallen in love with horses and I still love the way they move out longing for more country beneath their hooves. I feel their eagerness to travel. I've loved some ugly bits and pieces of life. I've loved people's scars. I've loved people that hurt me and I'm sure I will again. I'm in a love-hate relationship with pain. To feel everything is to be subject to an aching, to feel nothing is to willingly accept a life of numbness. I fall in love as I drape hackamores, bridle bits, horsehair and rawhide over old wooden pegs. I fall in love with everyday that leads me to the musty tack shed. I fall in love at night when my gaurd is lowered with the sun and words slip less nervously from my lips. I fall in love at 4 a.m. saddling horses and mumbling sweet nothings as the sun winks at us. I fall in love with your silhouette and the obnoxious hair beneath your hat. I fall in love with stingy horses that snort at dawn.
I fall in love to damned easy and I think I love that.
Goodnight darlings.
Gussie.