Writing Doodlepad

Drabble

People say that love is blind.

I agree; you never really know what you're getting into until you're already there. You end up blindsided by blind devotion.

They say that love is blind because you end up drunk on happiness, walking on clouds, blissfully ignorant of the world around you.

I say it's that and more.

Love is blind because it brings pain; you can't see anyone else through the agony and fear. Some people stumble forward in spite of it, though. Call it stubbornness, optimism, naïvity, whatever you like. It doesn't change the end result. As they forage onward through the fog, they begin to imagine possibilities behind the swirling curtains of uncertainty, hovering just out of reach. The longer you stay, the closer they become.

Then suddenly, everything you thought was real is ripped out from underneath your feet.

You see everything clearly after hitting the floor for the first time. You realize that you were wandering blind, searching for something that didn't exist—

—and that falling in love is really just falling down.