I remember something funny I did when I was 3 or 4 years old. I was lying in bed, trying to avoid falling asleep - I really have never liked sleeping, because I always feel like I'm going to miss something. I want to get the maximum out of life! I've always been that way. Anyway, I was lying there and wondering what it would be like to fall out of bed. I thought that maybe I would just sort of drift down and it would be kind of fun.

Well, it being me, and me being a rather foolhardy adventurous type, I decided to try it. I should mention that I was sleeping in the top of a bunk bed. So I just rolled over and fell out and landed on the floor. It was fun until I landed - that hurt. My father came running and helped me back into bed. I can't remember how or if I explained what had happened, but I never forgot the experience - neither the sensation of falling, nor the pain of the landing. I also remember that the shock of falling was worse than the actual pain; the feeling was something like "What? I hit the floor really hard? But that wasn't supposed to happen!" I was outraged and I felt betrayed.

When I fell in love the first time, the experience was almost exactly like that. First I thought about it, then I made my decision and leapt into it. And it ended painfully, with a terrible shock and betrayal.

I never tried to fall out of bed again. But I did try jumping off of a shed with an umbrella, and that turned out okay, oddly enough, even though the odds were against it working out.

*opens an umbrella*