I look at you blindly. Ignorantly blind, for I do not understand I am seeing you as the person I wish to see. I do not see you for who you really are. I do not see through your slightly wrinkled clothes, your short hair, or your freckled skin. I see the green of your eyes but not the sunshine of your soul. I see the curl of your hair, but not the capacity of your mind. I think I know you. I know every scar on your skin and the chip of your tooth, but I do not know the scars and chips of within. I am blind to every bruise on your heart and scar on your soul. I can not see. And the worst part is is that I do not understand. Little do I know that to you, I am blind.