Better to be crazy than fearful.

Read a love column. In the New York Times. Probably was appropriate for Valentine's Day. When the columnist was young. He went abroad. To Barcelona. His path crossed that of a young Spanish woman. He was immediately smitten. Based on looks and some magical vibes, I guess. Because he didn't speak Spanish. Told himself that he was going to return some day. To Barcelona. And marry this woman. To make it more likely. When he returned home. To the U.S. He enrolled in a Spanish class. Quickly learned to speak Spanish. Returned to Barcelona. Proposed to the woman. In Spanish, of course. Anyway, it worked.  She accepted. They've been married 23 years, and counting.  The columnist went on to talk about love.  And the impulsive nature of love. Prompts one to do some crazy stuff. Certainly, that's true for me. Thank gawd. I've fallen in love twice.  And I did some crazy things. To woo my true loves. And both of my loves had to be crazy, too. To hook up with me. I'm crazy. And I need a crazy woman. The columnist, incidentally, believes that  the opposite of love. Isn't hate. Instead, it's fear. The true lover proceeds. Fearlessly. Relentlessly.  In pursuit of love. And happiness. That takes over his entire being. The fearful never fall in love. Never pursue the impossible dream. Of finding true love. Maybe there's something to it. Better to be crazy than fearful. --Jim Broede