Of Love

I wrote this quiet a while back, but never really got around to posting it. I was going through my drafts and couldn't remember any more, what it was that kept me from posting it. So here it is.

I had an interesting conversation with one of my friends today.

Him : About how far should one go in the name of love.
Me : I'd say its a personal choice ... but why do you ask ...

Him : Just want to know if someone in this world has any definite answer to this
Me : Maybe just keep going on ... till you are sane
Him : Hahaha then your love would go far away from you
Me : If it still goes far away .. then maybe it was never really worth it

Later I wondered if one really had a choice in how far one wanted to go or can go. You see, love is not a bed of roses as it appears to a lot of us. The rose is just a camouflage to what actually lies under. When in love, one just keeps going on. The intent is to only keep going on till one is sane, but when in love, one never knows when that boundary of insanity is crossed. One never knows when to stop, or even if he knows, he can't. Even if he wants to he can't. Its a kind of a quagmire, from which, maybe, only time can rescue you.
I wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on earth. And then I ask myself the same question. I wonder what it is that has the power or will to pull one out of that quagmire. What it is that can make birds to never stop at the same place twice.