It was the fall that surprised me most.

Throughout my twenties, love had always been akin to a distant country: worth visiting perhaps, but out of my budget. I watched others travel to its shores with a lazy detachment and a very small amount of curiosity. There were other places to go. Other places to see. Love was not a final destination and those that went there seemed -- for the most part -- to be the eager embarrassing tourist types that I always avoided during my holidays.

Then I met Albert. The first thing I told him was that his name was stupid. Somehow the conversation spiralled out of control, to books, to music, to travel, to experiences... and I realized perhaps he would be a worthy companion. He would not complain about shoddy hotels nor lacklustre local food. He would find the hidden gems, the joys amidst plane strikes and lost baggage. To put it simply: I fell in love.

It was the fall that surprised me the most.