Love is blind not because lovers do not see, but because those who are not lovers do not see. They do not see what two lovers, for instance, see most clearly in one another. The woman may be just plain ugly, and the man an obnoxious jerk, but they are only so from a spectator's perspective. Lovers have three eyes: they see more than the visible world we all perceive with only two eyes. They are like those who see ghosts or see the future. It is a plain fact that other people do not just have the organs to see those things: you either see it or you don't--you can't even imagine it. The same in love.
And when it comes to love, its truth above all is exclusive. Never mind if they may be mistaken in the end, never mind if what they see are merely projections of themselves--these are possibilities that lovers never feel or know in the heat of passion and in the vision of beauty. There may be a consciousness or a fear that they may be mistaken, but that is of no importance to them because they can only be mistakes when they are compared to what other people see as correct or the ideal. What is important is what they see, the pure phenomenon of the other above all, one which discloses itself never to many but to you alone.
Who cares if others do not understand? It is not them after all who is at stake. They may be right--but so what? First of all who is to judge what correct is? I alone am responsible for my choices, I alone know what is "right." Let them find their own beloved, I say. Saying that I am mistaken in choosing my beloved is like saying I shouldn't have pizza when I want to, that I should order pasta because it is what you like. Like saying I wore the wrong tie to work, or my belt does not match my shoes. Or that I bought the wrong book, saw the wrong movie, believed in the wrong God. That you are God.--