Blind Man

I hate when she cries.  Especially, when it's because of me.

I wish the world knew her like I do. 

Amazing Grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.


I bet if you knew a blind man in love he could tell a beautiful love story.  I am certain he would tell us that it was love at first sight.

This whole notion that love is blind is based on superficial and external standards.  It's based on this misconception that love allows us to overlook what some might consider obvious flaws or defects. 

We are wrong.

Love is not blind.  In fact, it allows us to see things more clearly. 
It simply focuses on those things that matter.

I made her cry this morning.  A slightly insensitive but honest ill timed comment; not something that needed to be said first thing in the morning.  I suppose time of day is irrelevant.

On a bed of nails, she makes me wait.  And I wait, without her.

It's a thin line between being an artist and a plagiarist.
Being independent and being selfish.
A thin line between being honest and being cruel.

I don't wonder how a blind man knows when the one he loves is hurting.  Because for those of us in love, when the one we love is hurting, we will be hurting, too.  Automatically.  Instinctively.  Clearly.

I love when she cries.  Especially, because of me.

It reminds me that she still loves me and still cares.

And I suppose I shouldn't. 

I wish the world knew her like I do....

as a blind man.