forget what you've heard about love being blind

 

Love is blind? Nope, it's like a pineapple with too many eyes.

They say love is blind, don’t they? They utter it like a soft lullaby, as if love floats through life, unaware of its surroundings, stumbling into hearts without looking where it’s going. But I say that’s nonsense. Love isn’t blind. Oh no. Love is a pineapple — yes, that quirky fruit — with eyes everywhere, spying on your every move.

You see, love doesn’t just bump into you in some dark, romantic alleyway. It watches you. It sees you. It inspects every little detail, every flaw, every perfection, as it waits, patiently, like a predator sizing up its prey. Have you ever looked closely at a pineapple? Hundreds of tiny eyes, all looking in different directions, seeing everything, missing nothing. That’s love. It’s not blind; it’s all-seeing.

When love finds you, it knows everything about you, even the things you try to hide. Love is a silent observer, hovering in the corners of your life, watching how you laugh, how you frown, how you dream. It knows how your eyebrows crinkle when you’re deep in thought. It knows what song makes you cry at 2 a.m. when no one is watching. It’s seen your joy, but also the way you’ve fallen apart behind closed doors. Yes, love notices it all — those pineapple eyes aren’t just for show.

Yet people dare say love is blind! If love were blind, why would it feel so damn specific? When you fall for someone, don’t you notice everything about them? The way their smile starts slow, like a sunrise, or how they tilt their head when they listen to you, as if every word you say is poetry, even when you’re talking about something ridiculous like socks or grocery lists. Blind? Please.

Love sees deeper than your best friend, deeper than your therapist, deeper than the mirror you stare into every morning. It doesn’t need rose-colored glasses to fall for the beauty in your scars, your messiness, your eccentricities. Like a pineapple, love is sweet, yes — but only after it’s peeled back the layers, cut through the tough, spiky armor we all wear. Love’s not blind — it sees straight into your soul, past your defenses and your fake smiles.

Let’s not pretend that love doesn’t know exactly what it’s getting into.

It’s not stumbling around, bumping into walls, falling into arms by accident. No, love is a tactician. It chooses you. It chooses to notice the little quirks that make you, you. It chooses to accept the messy, the imperfect, the real. And much like that pineapple, it’s prepared to embrace the thorns, the tough skin, because underneath, there’s something worth savoring.

Love may walk into the room with stars in its eyes, but those stars? They see everything.

Love knows the battles you’ve fought, the heartbreaks you’ve survived, and still, it comes closer. Not out of ignorance, but out of understanding. Out of courage. Because love, like the pineapple, isn’t here for the smooth and easy. It’s ready to get its hands dirty, to dive into the core of who you are, flaws and all, and still choose you.

So, the next time someone tells you love is blind, smile politely. But inside, you’ll know the truth. Love is a pineapple — complex, sweet, a little rough on the outside, and definitely not blind. It has too many eyes for that. Eyes that see you, in ways you never imagined. Eyes that notice, appreciate, and stick around.

Because love is anything but never be blind.

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