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February 05, 2009

love is deaf.

My Picture Left in Scotland

I NOW think Love is rather deaf than blind,
For else it could not be
That she,
Whom I adore so much, should so slight me
And cast my love behind;
I'm sure my language to her was as sweet,
And every close did meet
In sentence, of as subtle feet,
As hath the youngest he,
That sits in Shadow of Apollo's tree.
Oh, but my conscience fears,
That fly my thoughts between,
Tell me that she hath seen
My hundreds of grey hairs,
Told seven and forty years,
Read so much waist, as she cannot embrace
My mountain belly, and my rocky face,
And all these through her eyes, have stopped her ears.

Ben Jonson

How is it that we think "love is blind"? I think Jonson makes a brilliant point here. Love can see well enough not to listen. If a woman isn't attracted to a man, will she give him the time of day? Will she allow him to woo her? I know this seems shallow, but if I hadn't gained some kind of attraction for Cody, I would have remained his friend, but nothing more. I would not have listened to his conversation of his fondness of me, his gestures to someday date me. Love is not blind, for we can see clearly what we love.

Love is deaf. And I venture to say that if your love is blind and not deaf, you have the utmost deepest, most meaningful love that God allows man to possess.

My advice for the day: Turn a blind eye to the reality of stark unattractiveness and embrace the genuineness of pure and awkward life despite the outward appearance. Make love blind.

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