love is blind

Growing up, I never really bought into the whole "love is blind" thing. I mean, sure, it sounded poetic, but I was a practical person. I liked things to make sense. That all changed when I met Sam.

It was the summer after I graduated college, and I had just landed my first real job in a new city. I didn’t know anyone, so I spent a lot of time exploring the neighborhood coffee shops. One day, while I was sitting in my favorite spot, nursing a latte and trying to read a novel, I heard someone ask if they could share my table. I looked up and saw Sam, with a friendly smile and a cup of coffee in hand. I nodded, and he sat down.

We started talking, first about the book I was reading, then about everything else under the sun. Sam was funny, charming, and genuinely interested in what I had to say. We ended up sitting there for hours, long after our coffees were cold and my book forgotten.

Over the next few weeks, Sam and I became inseparable. We explored the city together, tried new restaurants, and spent lazy Sundays watching movies. I found myself falling for him in a way I hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t just his looks—though he was definitely handsome—it was everything else. The way he listened, his quirky sense of humor, and the kindness he showed to everyone around him.

But it wasn’t long before people started to make comments. Sam had a few quirks that some folks found off-putting. He was a bit of a dreamer, with his head always in the clouds. He wasn’t ambitious in the traditional sense and didn’t have a stable job. He liked to paint, to write poetry, to do things that didn’t always pay the bills. My friends and family started to question what I saw in him, pointing out his flaws and suggesting I could do better.

Their words started to get to me, and I began to doubt my feelings. One night, after a particularly tough day at work, I met up with Sam at our usual spot. He could tell something was off. When he asked, I finally broke down and told him everything—about the doubts, the comments from friends, the fear that maybe they were right.

Sam listened quietly, then took my hand. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Love isn’t about perfection. It’s about seeing someone’s imperfections and loving them anyway. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst, and you still choose to be with me. That means everything to me.”

His words hit me hard. I realized that I loved Sam not in spite of his flaws, but because of them. He was genuine, passionate, and had a heart bigger than anyone I’d ever met. The doubts melted away, replaced by a clarity I hadn’t felt before. I knew then that love really is blind, in the best way possible. It’s about seeing past the surface and finding the beauty in someone’s soul.

Years have passed since that summer. Sam and I are still together, and I couldn’t be happier. He still paints and writes poetry, and I still work my 9-to-5. We’ve found a balance that works for us, one that might not make sense to everyone else but makes perfect sense to us.

Looking back, I’m grateful for every twist and turn that led me to Sam. He taught me that love isn’t about ticking boxes or meeting expectations. It’s about connection, understanding, and seeing the world through each other’s eyes. And for that, I’ll always believe that love is truly blind.