Freud said romantic love was a form of psychosis. All the symptoms show up. The "afflicted" become obsessed, fixated and distracted. They develop compulsions. People in love lose their moorings. Bats inhabit the belfry.
Willie Nelson put it best: "Crazy."The problem is, no one talks much about the upside of insanity. When in love, you think all the songs on the radio were suddenly written for you. Nature hums and purrs and speaks to you from every leaf and waterfall.
You and your beloved can sit on a rocky overlook, peer into the distance and actually believe all that BLM land will one day be yours. You can see the future from Dead Horse Point and other scenic outposts if you look hard enough.
You can see visions out there.
"Lovers aren't blind," runs and old Spanish proverb, "they just think everyone else has had their eyes put out."
Still, there's a price to pay. Love can end up costing more than a vat of champagne. Those sappy spring sprigs turn brown. And though songwriters still pen songs of love, they're "not for me."
Even those glorious overlooks lose their luster.
After all, there's a reason they named the place after "dead horses."