If there’s something I really believe in when it comes to love, it has got to be the fact that we don’t choose who we fall in love.
If I can choose, I would choose to fall in love with someone living just right next door, someone in the same city as I am, someone whom I don’t have to spend thousands of pesos for airplane tickets, hotel accommodations, and an hour in an airplane that may fall and crash anytime just to see.
I’d fall in love with a childhood crush, I’d choose my love story, and pick the one with the best outcomes, and the one that gives me the best reputation. I will pretty much fall in love with someone who’s the best or gives me the best.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t fall in love in the circumstances I choose.
However, I fell in love with the person who’s worth staying up late for, the person who’s worth working my ass off for that thousand of pesos and spending an hour in a crammed seat of an airplane that may crash into the sea anytime. I fell in love with someone who made me feel that they were worth it. I fell in love with someone who made me feel worthy of me.