CRAZY IN LOVE

Andy Chan

He packed his bag with nothing but a few clothes, a half-written poem, and a photo of her smiling under the sun. Everyone told him it was ridiculous — traveling ten thousand miles for a girl he barely knew, chasing a feeling that might not be returned.

But he didn’t care.

To him, love wasn’t about guarantees. It was about trying. About risking comfort for connection. About believing that happiness was worth the journey, even if the destination was uncertain.
She was exceptional — not just beautiful, but brilliant. The kind of person who made you feel like the world was bigger, brighter, more alive. He had met her once, maybe twice back in Vientiane, but those moments had carved themselves into his heart like stone.

So he went.

He took buses that broke down, slept in train stations, ate instant noodles for days. He wrote her name in the fogged-up windows of taxis. He rehearsed what he’d say if he saw her again — something poetic, something true. But mostly, he just hoped.

People laughed. “It’s silly,” they said. “She probably doesn’t even remember you.”
But he smiled. “Maybe. But I remember her.”

And that was enough.

Because sometimes, being crazy in love means doing things that don’t make sense to anyone else. It means chasing dreams others gave up on. It means believing in the kind of happiness that only love can bring — even if it’s just for a moment.

He never regretted the journey. Whether she opened the door or not, he had already found something beautiful: the courage to follow his heart.

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