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Love will make you do stupid things. Crazy things, illegal things, batshit insane things you swear you'd never ever do. Love is the crazy sibling of insanity, except love likes to turn you inside out and upside down before leaving; usually taking a large chunk of you with it (insanity likes to hang around long after the holidays have passed). I liken it to riding along in a tornado, then having the tornado finally let you go, only to discover that somewhere during the ride -- damnit! -- you lost an arm. You may think this is terribly insightful of me (and it is), but I wasn't always so wise.