"You say cupid scares you."
She chuckles, "so what?"
"But," I sigh, "you're lying."
The wind blows, making the leaves of the eucalyptus tree swirl and twirl and then softly fall on the ground.
The wind must be madly in love with the leaves.
"I'm not scared of Cupid, yeah."
"I know."
That's what love does to you. No matter how much it promises to catch you when you fall, you fall nonetheless.
Sometimes, the fall is soft. Sometimes, not so much.