Writing Prompts: Write a Love Story [Scene Stealers]

    Welcome to Scene Stealers, our series of writing prompts designed to flex your creative muscles.

    We’re thrilled that so many of you are participating in our writing prompt series. (Read the other Scene Stealers here and add one of your own.)

     

    How it works

     

    • We set the scene
    • You steal it, make it your own, and
    • Share your creation in the comments section of this post

    Of course, it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to share your work, but we hope you’ll do the exercise anyway.

     

    The ground rules:

     

    • Your story must begin with the exact wording we provide.
    • Your story must be 350 words or less.
    • Your work must be original and not previously published.
    • WTD provides an encouraging and safe environment for writers to grow and learn from each other. We’d love you to comment on other people’s submissions in a friendly and supportive manner.
    • We reserve the right to delete any comments or entries we deem inappropriate and those that do not meet the specifications above.

    This month’s installment is to write a love story. You can make it cheesy, mysterious, funny, romantic – whatever you want. The only condition is that you have fun writing it!

     

    Scene Stealer #19

    They say love is blind.

     

     

    Now steal this and make it your own.

    We can’t wait to read what you come up with, so please add your submission to the comments section of this post.

     

    By Vinita Zutshi, Guest Post Editor at Write to Done. Vinita also blogs at Carefree Parenting.

    Image: In love courtesy of Bigstockphoto.com

     

    About the author

      Mary Jaksch

      Mary Jaksch is best known for her exceptional training for writers at WritetoDone.com. Grab a copy of her free report, How to Create an Irresistible Lead Magnet in Less Than 5 Hours. In her “spare” time, Mary’s also the brains behind AlistBlogging.net. and GoodlifeZEN.com, a Zen Master, a mother, and a 5th Degree Black Belt.

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    • Judith Krouse says:

      “They say love is blind. As you can see, I am standing on the edge of this balcony about to jump.” Talking only to himself, as if that will be more comforting.

      “It’s just a hop, skip, and jump to the other building. I am doing this because my girl hasn’t
      answered my calls to, again, tell her how much I love her.” Feeling very down-hearted.

      “So, I am going over to her apartment to have it out. Does she love me or does she not. Do
      you think I can jump that far?” Still talking to himself.

      “Of course,…I can.”

      “Here goes.” Still standing on the balconny.

      “Wait, if love is blind, then, why am I standing on this ledge?” Contemplating his
      situation, he steps back off of the ledge.

      “I’ll calll one more time. If she doesn’t answer…” He holds the cell to his ear as it rings.

      “Hello.”

      “You answered, my love.”

      “John, I am sorry if you haven’t been able to get me. I was visiting my mother and forgot
      my cell phone. How silly.”

      “Can I come over?”

      “Of course.”

      He gets up on the ledge and jumps.

    • Judith Krouse says:

      “They say love is blind. As you can see, I am standing on the edge of the balcany about to jump.”
      Talking to himself, as it is comforting.
      “It’s just a hop and a skip to that building. I am doing this because my girl hasn’t answered my calls to, again, tell her how much I love her.”

    • ari says:

      He sat there, his eyes looking outside the window at the bright moonlight.
      Well, he would if he could actually see.
      I neared closer and sat in the chair that was in front of him.
      I said, “Nice, full moon tonight, ain’t it?” But instantly regretted my words.
      His jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t know.” He replied with such hostility that it made me wince.
      “Luke, I’m so sorry, it’s just that–”
      “No, save it, Maya, I don’t need your pity.”
      I bit my lip and leaned into my chair. I never meant for him to end up like this.
      “I don’t pity you,” I started in a softer voice, “I never did.”
      I expected my words to calm him, but his head snapped in my direction and I heard the spite ooze from his mouth.
      “You don’t love me, Maya. You don’t love anyone,” he snapped, “*I* loved you. Until you did this to me!” He pointed at his eyes that were the same pale green when I had first met him. It was my fault. A tear rolled down my cheek as I remembered how blindly he fell in love with me.
      Love was blind, and now, so was he. ote: words in * are italicized

    • Paloma says:

      They say love is blind. They say love don’t cost a thing. They say love will move mountains. But that is just a bunch of pop crap.

      It is Saturday so I am still in my bathrobe except this Saturday in particular I’m not wearing my pajamas and the delivery guys left my paper on the curb. I reach down to pick up the paper and I realize my left boob is dangling out and there is a new car in my neighbor’s driveway. Oh no, and there is a man walking towards the new car looking right at me with indifference. Who could he be? Is he her lover? Except her husband’s car is there also. Did he spend the night? Or why is he over so early?

      With the paper in my hand, I feel like kicking myself for spilling spaghetti sauce on my pajamas. Otherwise, I would still be wearing pajamas. But most of all I feel like kicking myself for still being overweight even though it’s been six months since my New Year’s resolution. I bet he would have really looked at me if I had lost those 30 pounds. Note to self: lose 30 pounds and wear sexy pajamas next time I get the paper.

      Drinking my coffee I can’t help but dream about him. His hair is a ridiculously shinny gleam above his masculine body. Even though he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt I fantasize about him wearing a dark suit with a skinny tie, just like in the magazine ads. In my fantasy, he even has his lips puckered into a stoically sexy pout.

      Looking through the classified ads, I secretly wish for an ad just like in Desperately Seeking Susan. Then it hits me. I should write a love ad. I desperately search for pen and paper and begin: Single woman looking for love. What next? A description of myself? My profession? If love is blind, why does he need to know how I look or how I make a living?

      I release the pen. I will love myself.

    • Vickie says:

      They say love is blind but for me it was love at first sight.

      Thirteen years old, I was on the shore of our summer lake house while working on my tan in my very first two-piece bathing suit, pink and white plaid with boy short bottoms. The lake was quiet and peaceful, when I heard a small boat in the distance. As it came into view, I could see two dark haired sun tanned boys headed my way. I held my breath as they pulled into shore. The one in the front grinned ear to ear as he boldly introduced himself and his brother, and then invited me to go for a boat ride. My heart fluttered as our eyes met and when I finally found my voice, I told him I’d like to go, but I’d have to ask my Mama first. Cell phones weren’t around back then, so I took off running up the hill and through the woods until I was out of their sight. Then I stopped and hid behind a tree and watched them until they left. I knew it was pointless to ask my Mama, she would never have allowed me to go off with a boy she knew, much less with one she didn’t.

      A dozen years had passed, along with my mother, the lake house was sold, and my love life a mess. I was down in the dumps, in the middle of a breakup, when my brother convinced me to go to the lake to meet the new owners and just see our old place. My heart skipped a beat when I found myself face to face again with those same brown eyes in the same damn place. What are the odds his parents would buy my parents place?

      So thirty years and two grown children later, we sit on our porch overlooking that lake, still in love and in the same place. Over the years, through thick and thin, there’s never been a doubt “we” were meant to be, so just maybe love is blind.

    • “They say love is blind.”

      But I let her eyes beam all over me.

      From the tousled bends in my auburn hair to the rise in my smile.

      I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.

      My hand slid down her chest. I let my index finger skirt across what I suspected to be her nipple ring, judging from the silhouette in her tank top. Our heartbeats both jumped.

      No longer did we have to talk about how to split up the money. It’s deposited and snug in an offshore account. The Caymans to be exact.

      All I wanted to hear was her muted moans and feel her gorgeous skin melt onto mine.

      This is our Tango.

      We’ve been swinging deals for the past nine months. A hustle is a hustle.

      But this is our first time going down this road.

      I tug on her tank, and with no fight she lulls into me. Cherry vanilla gloss dances on my neckline. I try my hardest to keep up with her lips. For every kiss she seals on me I release one in return with a sense of control laced with excitement.

      Her fingertips cup my shoulders, like she’s trying to keep a secret. All while my own fingers were meeting the dead center of the spine in her back. I could feel budding drops of sweat slip down into the crevice of her jeans.

      She must be as nervous as I am.

      The Florida rain has trapped us in this hotel room. I don’t imagine that she’s in any hurry to drive back to Savannah in this weather. I want to wake up lying underneath her in the morning.

      This is the type of love I saw coming my way the first moment we crossed paths.

    • Diane says:

      They say that love is blind! It has to be, otherwise she would not be sitting in a frigid, damp and dreary duck blind in the middle of some Laurentian wetlands. When had her brother’s skills at chess improve so much? It’s so dark, she thought, and don’t the birds know its night: time for them to sleep. Heavy noise. Grabbing her twin, she shook him screaming.
      -Chance there’s a bear, we’re going to die. Do something! He looked at his watch, the dial lighting his face.
      -Calm down. It’s Josh and his brother Ronan. He lit the lantern and looking at her knew they were in for stormy weather.
      -Why are they here?
      -Josh is my partner and his brother needs a few more photos for his exposition. Loosen up Kate.
      Sputtering, she didn’t even remind him her name is Katherine, while thinking she must look horrible.
      Josh came in and seeing her, couldn’t wipe the smile from his face before saying:”You won the game!’
      -Yep! She never saw it coming.
      They had the gall to high five with a resounding sound. She was ready to angrily dress them down when Josh stepped aside. Time stopped, there were no more sound and her brain left on a vacation. Green eyes, funny toque, green eyes, my ears are ringing, the other half of my soul.
      The recipient of that look did suffer from the same state of paralysis. Beautiful, velvet chocolate eyes, funny rubber ducky pajamas.
      Meanwhile, Josh looked at Chance saying:” Told you it would be a coup de foudre between those two.” Leaning over he removed the coffee from Ronan’s hand spilling a few drops. Ronan came to. The sound of his voice saying her name beamed her back to the instant.
      -…and that is how your parents met my princess
      -I love you uncle Chance!

    • Chesny says:

      They say love is blind, but is it really? In this society nobody knows what love is anymore. Is it a superstition?
      Love is a four letter word. Although people put L for Lust. Love is blind because all it sees is the face and physic. For some reason sometimes love turns into physical attraction. Its this beating constantly in hearts, meant as a warning to take caution in. Each generation is tearing apart; getting programmed to believe the contrary of true love.
      People believe love is just psychical and at first sight. This is what’s destroying relationships. Love is within. It’s loving each other for what they truly are, falling down together, getting back up, accepting each others flaws and, loving them. They only side of love we’re seeing today is illusion.

    • pygmy says:

      They say love is blind
      But forgiveness isn’t
      It’s light shines warmly
      And unconditionally
      On anybody who bucks
      Conventionality…
      And shows that bigness
      Is possible

      • RushDi says:

        Thank you, I could forgive him , but he never called me back

    • Ousman says:

      I am very glad to see your post.It is actually very great love story.I am very happy after read this post.
      Thanks
      free adds post

      • RushDi says:

        Thank you, but it is not a great love story. Because he still did not contact me & me neither. At least he did not bother to check my status or he could have said sorry , so I know that he truly loved me 🙁

    • RushDi says:

      They say love is blind
      Yes, it is blind. Also it is cruel & desperate. I loved you for the reason that you were a simple person & a person who understood me well. I was blind. My love was blind. I did not see any of it coming. I trusted your words for bits and bytes. You were my first love after thirteen years. I thought you were “the one “.
      My love is blind that I still keep giving me reasons to justify why you cheated. I still believe that you truly loved me; love has made me blind that I still want you to be with me. Sometimes I am mad at you; sometimes I cry for your presence so desperately. But it has been four months and I have not heard a word from you. We both are in the same country, but two different islands. I know you can make it to my island just like those days you used to visit me early morning. But I know you won’t.
      I am still waiting for you right here, to find you among hundreds of faces in this island; to hear voices among hundreds of voices & sounds. Each day you appear in front of me among the crowd and suddenly disappear. My heart stops every time when I think you would take my hand and whisper like previous days “ my angel “.
      You promised me that you will never leave me. How can anyone give a fake promise to anyone? In the other hand it is not possible with you. You were the most humble, simple, understandable person I have ever met. We don’t speak to each other anymore, even though I take my phone many times, I control myself & keep the phone back. May be you do the same. Love is desperate; But our ego more than our love and we do not try to contact each other. May be you loved me and that love made you blind to cheat your wife. Love made you blind to lie to everyone.

    • marti says:

      They say love is blind.

      Well no kidding. How could Lulu not see the fact that her new “boyfriend” was just a slacker. Whatever she needed to hear he said it. Whenever they were out and about, she paid. He was always a little short or the deal hadn’t come thru. The worst excuse: you know I’m good for it. Did he have a million bucks somewhere handy, because that’s how much he was in the hole. and she never questioned him. He practically lived with Lulu. what did it take to get her to see the benefits to losing this guy. the worst part of it all he knew that i knew, that I was not blind to his maneuvers. Of course I was not in love with him. His charm did not extend beyond the lovesick bubble that Lulu and he were in. And he knew that when i decided to tell Lulu she would not hear me. Well not only was love blind but deaf as well.
      So how do I help my friend without losing her friendship. This was going to take a plan of epic proportion, strategy that was out of this world, and a lot of praying. Praying for her well being. Praying for my well being. Praying that he would dump her for someone else, anyone else. and if he was true to form it was going to be for someone with a lot more discretionary cash than Lulu. Where was that snooty girl from high school when you needed her. You know the one: She was mean and her parents were loaded, which meant she could get whatever she wanted. Well she was going to be my number one goal. I’ll find her. It will take a few phone calls and a lot of girl talk.

    • Al Wright says:

      They say love is blind. But then, what does a 17 year old really know of love? Having been raised around theater, I loved every aspect. As a high school Thespian, I was on stage as frequently as backstage. Yet I was ill prepared my Junior Year for what I would face playing the angry father of Helen Keller in Malcolm Gibson’s The Miracle Worker.

      Leah was new to our school. New to our town, for that matter. Timid to the point of being nearly invisible, none of us thought the director would take her audition seriously, much less give her the lead role of Helen. What could he possibly see in her?

      I relinquished my annoyance with his decision and focused on my role. Harsh to the point of being brutal was not who I really was. Unexpectedly, my character began to alienate other cast members.

      Thankfully, Helen was both blind and deaf. Leah’s portrayal of her frustrations only compounded my own inner turmoil. As my confusion increased, Helen’s seemed only to subside. And at some point, I don’t remember when, I felt it. My disdain for Leah had mysteriously dissolved into infatuation. This nobody startled me when suddenly she emerged a somebody. To me.

      Maybe my volatility was not alienating her, too. Could she turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to this heartless character I played? She did not know me outside of rehearsals. I’m not this person, Leah. I see now who you are: someone like me who simply wants friends. I hear your nervous overtures for acceptance. I ache to fill your void.

      Is an angry father, frustrated by his unruly daughter, all you can see? All you can hear? Oh, Leah, I pray for a miracle to be worked. Do not be blind to who I really am, a 17-year old kid who just wants to love and be loved. Like you.

      (Note: A letter was inadvertently omitted from my email address, so was advised to repost. Thanks, all, for your patience! Al)

    • Chapter 1

      They say love is blind but it can also be deadly, Claire thought to herself, a slight grin playing across her lips.

      She sat in his office chair listening to the scanner copy the pages of the letter, the light cast yellow shadows on the wall. She had emptied the safe and the money, along with the severed head, were in her Kate Spade bag on the floor next to her. Claire eyed the gun left in the safe. The copier had stopped and it was decision time. Looking from the gun to the newly scanned PDF on his desktop she waited. The cursor on the computer blinked impatiently at her.

      “Fuck it,” she thought, and clicked the little blue “Post” button.

      It was done. Done, for all the friends to see.

      The hum of the copier stopped and pulled her back to the task at hand and she reached for the bag.
      Claire hung the bag over her shoulder, it was lighter than she expected, 8 maybe 10 pounds. She had never really thought how much a human head would weigh. She looked at her watch it was 12:45 and her next appointment was at one o’clock, she needed to hurry if she was going to be on time, her hand was barely into the bag when she saw her keys hanging from the door.

      “Old habits,” she thought to herself. She jiggled them free, locking the door behind as she headed toward her car. Claire tossed the bag onto the passenger’s seat, it landed with a muffled thud on the black leather. She snickered at the unexpected sound. Claire buckled her seat belt, her foot still on the brake she glanced at the bag, she leaned over and threaded the seatbelt through the bag’s handles. She was in a hurry and she was a bit of a speeder.

      “No sense having to deal with that mess,” she said out loud to no one.

    • Janie Upchurch says:

      Scene Stealers #19
      “They say love is blind.”

      They say love is blind. I say love can see clearly when it is true, springing from a heart that values another more than self.
      However, the flip side of the coin is that true love in an abundance of positive ways is blind. Its blindness includes overlooking faults, being patient with mistakes, and understanding the time it takes to grow. Its blindness denies selfishness and sets itself on a path of honoring another with the best a heart has to give.
      Rosa was the recipient of a love so true, yet soon after she received it, her true lover was taken from her in death. Their love had begun as a childhood friendship and grown through the pre teen relationship when “boys had cooties” to the time that they ignored each other in high school for the attention of others. Finally, after going to different colleges, they reconnected.
      The strength of their new bond brought to mind the question that she and her girlfriends had discussed as teenagers back when love to them was all about romance.
      “Would you rather have the man you love leave you or die?”
      Youth so often views life in terms of the immediate and most decided that they would rather have the person leave them because there would be the possibility of winning him back. 
Rosa, in fact, was the only one who had a different opinion. She would not want to seek and perhaps win back one who had carelessly rejected her. Therefore, in all the agony of loss, she did what her younger views had prepared her for. She chose to embrace her true love’s death as her lot in life, knowing that she had been loved in purity and devotion. This could play itself out either in a contentment that would last throughout her days or it could free her to love again. Fortunately, she does not have to make that decision until life gives her time and healing. So, the question for now is this, “Will her tender lost love of the past blind her to the possibility of another true love in the future?”

    • Chantalle says:

      They say love is blind, and as I watch as you shake hands, your charming smile plastered on your face, talking to your fans that itch for your attention, I can understand that they would rather blindly ignore all the negative publicity that has recently been spawned around you. They love you, your fans, and they aren’t the only ones aching to be with you.
      It is hot in this overcrowded room, yet you keep your smile professional, only your eyes show your tiredness and I feel you flagging. I do not stray very far from you; being a famous crime author isn’t without its own danger.
      Slowly, the room empties, and your fans disperse into the wind directions they came from. I catch snippets of conversation – such a charming woman; so interesting; how can they publish such rubbish about her…
      I close the heavy door behind the last couple, and for a moment lean against it, thankful that this too has passed without incident. As I turn, I find you waiting, leaning casually against the staircase banister, your blue eyes dark. We study each other; you have something on your mind.
      “I don’t want to hide anymore.” you say. “I want them to know about you, about us. I no longer want to be part of this charade.”
      “So that you can be humiliated even more by the press? You have been hurt enough by the publicity about the so-called affair.”
      “Does our love mean nothing to you then?” Your voice is cold and hurt.
      “It means more to me than you can ever imagine.” I whisper as I gently touch your face. “To them, I am non-existent, just another fan, but it is I who wake up beside you every morning. Letting them know about us will only jeopardise your safety, and I will not compromise that. Ever.”
      I draw you close; feel your arms folding around me.
      “My very personal bodyguard.” you whisper as you kiss me, your fingers wandering over my body until you find the hidden Glock under the baggy shirt I wear.

    • Bronwyn says:

      They say love is blind. Well, I guess I can’t argue with that. At the moment I can’t see a thing. It’s dark but I can feel the motion of the car and I can vaguely hear my beloved humming as he drives me to god knows where.
      “I’m taking you out”, he’d told me.
      “Where are we going?” I’d asked suspiciously.
      “It’s a surprise”.
      To distract myself from the plight I was about to endure, whatever it was going to be, I decide to think about how it all began.
      He was gorgeous. I saw him across the room in the pub, clad in a leather jacket and torn jeans, dark wavy hair and a smile that could have matched that of any well-manicured famous actor. He looked straight at me, his eyes piercing into mine.
      I felt a stab of disappointment as he got up and walked away.

      “Hello!”

      I jolted and turned. It was him.

      “Oh, hello” I stammered.

      “Will you buy me a drink?” he asked his head cocked to one side.

      “What?”

      “Well if you buy me a drink then I’ll have to buy you one back.”

      He had just moved to my town and was staying at a hotel. Four weeks later, after eight dates and four bunches of flowers, I couldn’t say no when he asked for a place to crash while he looked for a house to buy.
      We were great roommates; well, a little more than just roommates. Everything about him seemed so perfect. He did have this annoying tendency to hum though. But I just put that down to one of those idiosyncrasies I’d have to tolerate. Now, looking back, it wasn’t the humming that made me feel uneasy so much as his zoning out as he did it.

      The car stops and I hear the car door open. Moonlight blinds me as the car boot creaks open.

      “We’re here!” He sings, his smile still beautiful. I see a shovel in his hand.

      The gag only allows me to moan in terror.

      Yes, love is certainly blind.

    • The Boca Deb says:

      They say love is blind. Or at least it’s supposed to be.

      I fell in love with Gary the moment I met him. I was all of eleven years old. He was going on sixteen and almost too shy to talk — especially to girls. But he liked cats, and made friends with Tank, my Russian Blue, almost right away. Then he made friends with me.

      Gary knew how I felt about him. I never hid it. I didn’t know how. He reciprocated in his own way. I found books, magazines, and even guitar strings, on my front porch badly wrapped in the Sunday comics with my name scribbled on it. I knew his handwriting better than I knew my own. One day he brought me something that couldn’t be wrapped in newsprint. Tank heard it crying and went on high patrol before Gary even stepped onto the porch.

      I met Gary at the door. “What is this?” I demanded.

      “A cat,” Gary said.

      “I can see that!” I said. “She can’t be more than a couple of months old!”

      “He,” Gary corrected. “The vet wanted to put him down because he’s deaf.”

      “What? He may howl because he can’t hear himself but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a good housecat!” I took the kitten from Gary. “I’ll raise him well.”

      “Promise?”

      “Yes! Him and many more to come!”

      Gary turned to walk away. “Someday we’ll raise them together…”

    • Al Wright says:

      They say love is blind. But then, what does a 17 year old really know of love? Having been raised around theater, I loved every aspect. As a high school Thespian, I was on stage as frequently as backstage. Yet I was ill prepared my Junior Year for what I would face playing the angry father of Helen Keller in Malcolm Gibson’s The Miracle Worker.

      Leah was new to our school. New to town, for that matter. Timid to the point of being nearly invisible, none of us thought the director would take her audition seriously, much less give her the lead role of Helen. What could he possibly see in her?

      I relinquished my annoyance with his decision and focused on my role. Harsh to the point of being brutal was not who I really was. Unexpectedly, my character began to alienate other cast members.

      Thankfully, Helen was both blind and deaf. Leah’s portrayal of her frustrations only compounded my own inner turmoil. As my confusion increased, Helen’s seemed only to subside. And at some point, I don’t remember when, I felt it. My disdain for Leah had mysteriously dissolved into infatuation. This nobody startled me when suddenly she emerged a somebody. To me.

      Maybe my volatility was not alienating her, too. Could she turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to this heartless character I played? She did not know me outside of rehearsals. I’m not this person, Leah. I see now who you are: someone like me who simply wants friends. I hear your nervous overtures for acceptance. I ache to fill your void.

      Is an angry father, frustrated by his unruly daughter, all you can see? All you can hear? Oh, Leah, I pray for a miracle to be worked. Do not be blind to who I really am, a 17-year old kid who just wants to love and be loved. Like you.

    • WRyan says:

      They say Love is blind. I say “they” are right. I say “they” are wrong. Love sees all and Love sees nothing.

      I fell in love with her smile. She was sitting outside on my sister’s front porch. Her eyes were covered by shades that were worn more to dim the glare from her teeth than for the glare of the sun. My eyes were parked on her face before I parked my pickup.
      I fell in love with her legs. She was wearing short shorts and it was summertime. Her legs took in the glow of the sun and gave back the glow of sexiness.

      It was only a matter of time before I fell in love with her personality and I was stumbling around like a blind man in the woods. My silly antics gained her interest and after I told her “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she never stopped loving me.

      She was blind to all my flaws and shortcomings. But I worried that she wouldn’t, that she didn’t love me for who I really am. I started to take inventory—subconsciously—of all the things that she did wrong, of all the things that weren’t perfect. Fictional arguments would play out in my head. She would put me down and I would fire back from my arsenal.
      I argued with myself about my future with her. The blind side of me eventually won and I told her I didn’t love her like she loves me.
      After I spent two days away from her, I realized I had been very blind. I realized that she often knew me better than I know myself. She knew I wasn’t perfect, but she only saw the one person she wanted to spend her life with.
      I saw that I loved her more than I realized.

      They say you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. I say good thing Love is forgiving.

    • Valentine’s Day

      They say love is blind. They have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about. Love is all about eyes meeting across a crowded room, eyes staring deeply into other eyes, eyes running over someone else when they’re not looking, or glancing at another when the person you’re supposed to be with isn’t looking.

      If love were blind, the good-looking people wouldn’t get first pick all the time.

      Maria sat in the corner, alone, while her so-called friends chatted and flirted and danced. She nursed her no-sugar no-caffeine no-flavour fizzy drink, hoping the evening would come to an end so she could go home. She’d long since given up any hope of Prince Charming, or even Colin Firth, turning up.

      Her phone buzzed and she looked down at it: would there be a message from a secret admirer across the room, asking her to come over? No, just another damned update from Twitter. She punched a few buttons on the phone, thankful for a moment’s distraction. She read the news – just the usual floods and storms, bickering politicians, spoilt sportsmen, blah blah blah.

      She felt a movement and picked her head up: someone had come to sit at her table. It was a young man she didn’t know, wearing dark glasses.

      “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

      Of course she didn’t.

      He asked the questions, she answered. Everything changed: time, instead of crawling along like a crippled snail, flew by. Her friends came and went and Maria barely noticed, so engrossed was she in her conversation with this charming Romeo.

      “Just one last question,” he said. “Would you mind very much if I touched your face?”

    • Nupur says:

      I erased my story after I read yours

    • Ken says:

      They say love is blind. As someone who is blind, I can tell you, “they” don’t know a thing about love or blindness. Two years ago, I would have agreed. Then, I was twenty-six, an ambitious junior associate at a well known firm, I was one smokin’ hot brunette, and the world was mine.
      I met Chaz at one of the hottest clubs in town while partying with my friends after a particularly difficult week at the firm. He was funny, cute, charming. I thought he was everything a girl could want. He even said marriage was in his plans, some day. We went everywhere together. He wasn’t perfect, but I was in love and my girl friends were all jealous. I was living the dream.
      And then I was in the accident.
      A couple of kids were street racing. I was waiting at a stoplight on my way home. One of the kids lost control of his car. It spun into my car. I got trapped and my car caught on fire. I lost my sight, the use of my legs, and my face is covered in scar tissue. I was in the burn unit for months. Chaz came only once, I know because I heard his voice in the hallway, but he never entered my room and never came back.
      I wished for death after that. How could I go on living I thought. In time, I learned I was still me. My face is disfigured and I live in a wheelchair now, but I’m still a good attorney. To their credit, the firm kept me on. Then Bob came into my life. At first, he’s was my Braille instructor. We soon spent hours together just talking. We would sit on a bench in the park and he’d describe the world to me. When he kissed me one night, I asked him how could he kiss a hideous face like mine. He said it was easy to kiss the woman he loved.
      You may say love is blind, but I know it sees into the soul.

      • Donna says:

        Favorite so far…really poignant.

        • Ken says:

          Thanks, I was hoping it would be poignant and moving.

          • Vickie says:

            Wonderful, loved it.

      • They say love is blind. As someone who is blind, I can tell you, “they” don’t know a thing about love or blindness. Two years ago, I would have agreed. Then, I was twenty-six, an ambitious junior associate at a well known firm, I was one smokin’ hot brunette, and the world was mine.
        I met Chaz at one of the hottest clubs in town while partying with my friends after a particularly difficult week at the firm. He was funny, cute, charming. I thought he was everything a girl could want. He even said marriage was in his plans, some day. We went everywhere together. He wasn’t perfect, but I was in love and my girl friends were all jealous. I was living the dream.
        And then I was in the accident.
        A couple of kids were street racing. I was waiting at a stoplight on my way home. One of the kids lost control of his car. It spun into my car. I got trapped and my car caught on fire. I lost my sight, the use of my legs, and my face is covered in scar tissue. I was in the burn unit for months. Chaz came only once, I know because I heard his voice in the hallway, but he never entered my room and never came back.
        I wished for death after that. How could I go on living I thought. In time, I learned I was still me. My face is disfigured and I live in a wheelchair now, but I’m still a good attorney. To their credit, the firm kept me on. Then Bob came into my life. At first, he was my Braille instructor. We soon spent hours together just talking. We would sit on a bench in the park and he’d describe the world to me. When he kissed me one night, I asked him how could he kiss a hideous face like mine. He said it was easy to kiss the woman he loved.
        You may say love is blind, but I know it sees into the soul.

        • Nupur says:

          Beautiful beyond words and this is called a real love story.

          • Ken says:

            You’re very kind. Thankyou

        • Janie Upchurch says:

          Beautiful love story of tenderness and depth.

      • Paloma says:

        My favorite so far too!

    • Donna says:

      They say love is blind. And sitting there in her best dress clutching a red rose to her chest, Naya was a testament to the truth of this. Love is blind and foolish. Although she would never admit it to herself or to anyone else — especially Candace, her closest friend — Naya was spinning out of control.
      Upon leaving the apartment that evening, Candace inquired suspiciously, “What is this? You’ve been dressing up and going out alone every Saturday night for weeks! Is your boss throwing another fundraiser? I know you said these after-hours activities are important for getting ahead but you couldn’t pay me enough to spend that many evenings with a roomful of stuffed shirts!”
      Naya smiled and said, “No, I have a date.” Candace’s jaw had dropped.
      Naya smiled again now at the thought of Candace spending the evening going through a mental checklist of potential escorts for Naya’s elegant evening out. Of course, she would come up with no one and would be waiting to blast Naya with question after question when she returned that night. But Naya would not return.
      A hush fell over the theater and Naya looked around her at the rows of seats which were completely filled with people now as the house lights began to dim. The orchestra finished its overture and the curtain began to rise. Naya drew in a breath when she saw him. There he was center stage glowing in the beam of the spotlight. As he sang, she could hardly contain her pleasure in knowing that tonight they would finally be together. She would meet him backstage after the performance, after the crowd disappeared and she would tell him how long she had been waiting to be with him. He would recognize her, the beautiful woman who sat in the same seat on the second row week after week. Crying through every song he sang, clutching a red rose. And then they would be together.

    • Gene Hilgreen says:

      echo

    • Gene Hilgreen says:

      They say love is blind—

      Everything about Micky’s New Year’s Eve bash at Faux to kick off 2014—screamed A-list. Impeccably dressed celebrities bump elbows with glamorous young socialites clad in the latest furs, as the line of party goers wrapped from the main entrance onto Broadway. Tonight money may have gotten you invited, but it didn’t move you to the head of the line, and nobody seemed to mind—except me.

      I wanted to be here like I wanted another hole in my head. Micky, my boss said I needed to get out and meet someone. He had someone in mind—his lawyer.

      I caught a valet entering through a side door; waved a Benjamin, and that got him to hold the door for me. I was in and made my way to the bar. I signaled the bartender who was standing in front of the scotches, and stuffed a twenty into his tip jar. I watched him grab the Dalwhinnie 25, but didn’t see who the drink was for.

      “What’ll it be?” he said.

      “Glenlivet neat,” I said, and looked down the bar. With my view unobstructed; my jaw dropped. Attached to an angelic face with long flowing platinum hair, the most beautiful blue eyes I ever saw—had my full attention.

      “A man after my own heart,” she said, looking at my drink…then she blinked and I melted.

      Totally flustered, I looked about the room for Micky and spotted him waving my way.

      “Find your date,” she said.

      My bravado reestablished; I stared straight into her Bambi sized eyes— a rare shade of blue that danced with animation like glittering crystals. “No, I’m solo tonight—kind of. They say love is blind—well, I have a blind date.”

      That got me another smile from this angel. “Do I look blind to you? I’m Dr. Charlotte Vice, Micky’s lawyer.” She extended her hand. “But please… call me Char.”

      “Well Char,” I said, slightly tongue twisted. “You can call me Buck.”

      “Want to get out of here?” she asked, her gorgeous eyes batting.

      “Thought you’d never ask.”

      ***

    • They say love is blind. True, but love is also deaf. When we initially fall in love, all our senses are acutely attuned to the good in that special someone, our love interest. Nothing or no one else matters. Others may warn us we are headed for a cliff and to prepare for a hard fall. We don’t listen. We “won’t” listen. They are wrong! “My love is good, kind, devoted!” we argue. He is the epitome of the perfect soul mate.

      Their words bounce off like a rubber ball against a brick wall. Weeks…or months later our world crashes around us when the object of our affection rejects us, tosses us aside for a new love interest, or simply disappears without so much as a “See you around.”

      We melt like a ball of melted wax on a hot stove and cry out, “Why didn’t I see it coming? Why didn’t I listen?”

    • Vince says:

      Scene Stealer #19

      They Say Love is Blind.

      You ever wonder what actually made you fall in love. Do you really believe that it is pheromones? My wife believes we are destined to be with the ones we are with. So how does that account for the thousands of horrific couplings that end in divorce, beatings or worse? How is that part of destiny? I think if that is destiny, destiny stinks. So how did I wind up with my own wife, hmmm? I was willing to put my entire life on hold, in a sense, for one person. To stop running the streets, bars and general horsing around. I left many a friend to be with my wife when we were dating. Was that fate as well? They say love is blind if so why is everyone so critical of each other. Perhaps destiny and love are two different things that just happen to overlap. Maybe they say love is blind to eliminate any judgments about who we end up marrying or with. If that is true why is love made out to be so hard. Shouldn’t it just sort of happen and then take over. They say love is blind and if that is the case everything I said should apply. I think Love isn’t blind and only clouds the vision enough to make things happen and then it hits the fan. Do you really think Love is blind? I don’t know for sure and hope we never make it something in a test tube. I like the mystery and foolishness of being in love. They say love is blind and maybe that is so we don’t feel so foolish for the stuff we are willing to do to prove our love. After all we did invent St. Valentine’s Day so we had an excuse to be foolishly romantic. All I know is; they say love is blind and I am still using my walking stick to get around in the fog of love. Happy Valentine’s Day!

    • Ozen says:

      They say love is blind. Is it really? Or are we hiding behind that label. It is easy to say love is blind to justify your unstoppable passion. I knew when I first met him; I had goose bumps and flashed like a virgin. It was a warning for me, stay away from him, run right now. But I could not soothe butterflies in my stomach; they would not stop unless I merge with him.
      Relationship was a dead end, scandal, impossible yet I wanted him to be mine. A midnight phone call was my death sentence, I knew it but I chose to be his side. I knew he is going to break my hearth but I wanted to taste the forbidden fruit.
      No, love is not blind; love is reckless, love is brave because I was brave and reckless by running into him unconditionally.

      • They say love is blind. Maybe it is, but then how would I know unless someone told me, for I too am blind.
        You know, one of those people that owns a nice dog in a harness and a white stick.

        I know what love is of course, as people all around me express this when they stand aside in the lift and keep the door open for me and my dog to pass through. Then again, I’m not certain if its me that they love, or rather my dog, who is a big animal with soft fur, that nuzzles me to show that he loves me.

        His name is Peaches, because the trainers told me his fur is the color of ripe peaches and sometimes when he comes back from the dogie parlor, I have to admit that he also smells like peaches, -must be the shampoo they use on him.. Then again, he might think that his name is “Fetch,” because I possibly say the word ‘fetch’, more often than I call him Peaches.

        I admit that Peaches and I do love each other, but because he is the protective type, I somehow doubt if he’d ever allow a person or another dog near me. So maybe the love of this dog is the only sort of love that I’ll ever really know.

        I’ve asked myself often if this is enough and I swear Peaches just told me again, that it would have to be. So being blind, perhaps I’ll just pretend that he’s the handsome guy from Accounts, that all the other girls are talking about. Especially since everyone that meets Peaches, always says to him, “Now who’s a handsome boy then.”

        • Paloma says:

          Excellent! Love your opening lines!!

    • Flo says:

      They say love is blind. Well I say love is deaf. You only have to hear the shrill voice of Amanda to know what I’m talking about. They say when you marry, the worry is will she stay the same? Can I be with just one woman the rest of my life?
      All I know is, if I were marrying Amanda, my question would be, Can my ears take it that long?

      My brother always was uncomplicated. Cook him dinner, wash his clothes, its all he’s wanted in a woman. Along comes Amanda, and he’s like a fish caught on a rod.

      So now, here she is, stirring her pot.
      “ya woonnaaa cum n see ma dreessssssss?” Amanda asked as my body shuddered at the sound. Cant say no, don’t want to say yes, Jesus, I’m doomed.
      “Sure”.
      Why did I say that? Suppose I better get used to this, dear sister in law.

      The shop was quaint, so many beautiful dresses, how could a woman just pick one? Surely if we banded together we could make these everyday wear?
      Amanda flung on her dress and even made us listen to her aisle music ‘to get the feeling’.

      She was very beautiful when she was quiet.

      Out of the corner of my eye I could see it…..my mother. First down, she was crying!
      Then Amanda’s sister, blubbering.
      Don’t do it Trish, stay strong with me! Talk Amanda, please, talk, that will stop the tears! Never thought I would see the day I wanted her to talk!

      Just me now. Don’t cry, please don’t cry. With my vision blurring, I could feel the salty sting of my bitter tears rolling down my cheeks to my jaw. I had gone to the darkside. I too, was a blubbering mess.

      Until.
      “Awwwe guuysssssss”

      Love may be blind, but its also deaf and stupid.

      • I am laughing so hard I am almost crying. 🙂

        • Paloma says:

          I like that you say love is deaf. Interesting perspective!

    • Shawn Lee says:

      They say love is blind.

      It strikes you like a cannonball, left you completely unprepared in the flame of passion. It comes at weird places, awkward timing, and unplanned locations. As a person who never believe in love at first sight, you were proven wrong, again and again. You just fall, as if under some divine intervention or perfectly aligned celestial objects, into this bottomless dark abyss. And when you think you couldn’t fall anymore, that you reached the rock bottom, the bottom just broke off and you fell even deeply in love. You have no justification, no rationale, to explain why do you like him. You simply do. Every small things of his, seems to attract you more, day by day. The way he touches his face in the morning, the way he stretches his arms when he yawns, the way he smiles with his row of white teeth peeking out between his lips. You can lucidly remember every curves and grooves on his body, every hand gestures he has when he got really excited about something, and merely every small things that he does for you and only you.

      You just fall even deeply in love.

      You have your standard of the qualities you seek in your perfect soulmate. You imagine him being tall, dark and handsome. You vividly picture him as a very well versed and educated man, probably like to sing and please, please, please be really good in cooking. You would incidentally miss a step and he would embrace you with his big strong arms to keep you from harm. You could delineate the exact word he would say when he comes into the bed, “I’ll always be right here with you.” Yet, this perfect man does not exist and to you, at this very moment, is completely fine. You don’t mind his occasional goofy side, his lack of tidiness and his less than perfect hair. You are okay with the idea of him working hard for a better life and comes home late. You know whatever he do, he is doing it for you and only you.

      You know one thing for sure: Love may be blind, but your heart will always know best.

    • They say love is blind. I agree.

      It was only a few weeks ago that I was a happy, self sufficient, self respecting, single man, sharing my time between checking Facebook at work and playing World of Warcraft at home. Every night I’d stream movies and episodes of The Big Bang Theory. Every morning I’d eat scrambled eggs and honey dripped french toasts. Every few days I would hang out with my friends and we would get proper drunk. Life was good. I was happy.

      Then she joined our office and in all his infinite wisdom, my boss assigned her to my team. A team that was full of nerds. My brothers. All of them as awkward in front of her as a North Korean monk in a strip club in Vegas.

      What was I supposed to do? I was the only one who didn’t mumble in front of her female presence and so I had to get close to her. Reluctantly I accepted my fate. It was just a matter of days before I was completely blinded by love.

      Now I’m miserable. I don’t have the time to watch Sheldon crack his jokes. I don’t have time to cook. I haven’t checked into my WoW account forever! And partying with my bros is out of the question.

      All I do is talk to her. In the office, on the phone, on a date, when not on a date, all the time! My Facebook wall is full of her updates that I’ve liked. I’m completely miserable. But I can’t see it. The part of my brain that sees it is no longer allowed to express its opinion.

      Love is blind and I’m in love so therefore, I’m blind. But I’m loving this monochrome miserable life.

      • Nupur says:

        It is a beautiful story. Wish you all the best

      • a good blindness there 🙂

      • Paloma says:

        Your character is lost in love. I also like the parallel between your story and The Big Bang Theory.


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