14 February 2014

LETTER TO CUPID

February 14, 2014

CUPID
God of Love
Mt. Olympus

Dear Cupid:                                                                                  

I have known you since I was a kid. Every month of February your symbols are everywhere, display in stores window, streets, in school or at the car bumpers. You are a cute boy with wings like an angel. In the images that the grown – up made of you, your arms are full. You’re always positioned sideways with a bow and arrow aiming through the hearts. They said it was you Cupid – poor Cupid they don’t put a decent cloth on you. Need I to remind them that lack of appropriate attire specially in public is not okay? Eventually not, the grown – ups does not seem to hold a reason for them to fret with your appearance or with your fondness in archery in a very young age. Once my older cousin told me that it is your duty to find a soul mate for everyone. In short, you are the God of Love. What do I know of such love she spoke of aside from the love I give and get from the rest of the clan? So I have decided not to bother myself with you Cupid.

 Februarys come and go. As expected you were never absent. That is why I have decided that you are a big part of a celebration – Valentine’s Day, which is odd because some expert on TV (as they called themselves) discussed that you are not related to Saint Valentine.

I was a junior student when I was formally introduced to you. Indeed, you are the God of Love; the son of Venus – Goddess of Beauty. Turns out that you are not dressed inappropriately because you are a Greek which means Mt. Olympus is somewhere in Greece. It is how Greeks dressed up during the ancient times. It was a marvel to know you better. For all those years I thought your arrow would only attract love but actually you have one which repel.  You are a myth yet I believe in you just like how the grown – up fantasized your gift when I was a kid.

Hear now, dearest Cupid, I beseech you not to end reading this letter of mine. Though I am aware that you do not speak my language but I do know that you can understand. It might have occurred to you that I have chosen your day (February 14) to write not on days before the celebration. Instead of going out with someone I am pouring my heart with you Cupid, a mythical creature, hoping that Zeus already allowed an internet connection in Mt. Olympus. If you have been paying attention with me I am sure you have known of what have become of my love affair (If we can really count it as one) including the one I still cannot forget. Thus, come my requests, oh… before that, Have you struck me with your arrow? Which one, the gold sharp pointed or the one tipped with lead?

If ever not here are my requests: 1. Please, please if you decide to strike me let it be the arrow that excites love. I don’t want to spend my life hating someone I had enough of it. I am sure it will please your mother to see the beauty in love. 2. Show me some sign, perhaps, you can request Iris to deliver the message. 3. Now is not a good timing for a visit. Yes I long to have someone with me, to share silly old stories, old – fashioned flowers delivered at my address but the idea of having one is not my priority. 4. Instead of romantic love can you shower us with a different kind love, love for the family, love for nature, love for peace, love for humanity, love for values, love for thyself, and etc. etc.? 5. Lastly, if ever you paired me with a good guy and it won’t work out, show both of us the easy way out before we end up ripping each other’s dignity. Let us save the friendship we have nurtured. If it is not within your power and command please let someone else intercede.  

I am neither expert in love nor clueless on how it is. When my moment comes I want myself to be fully aware that I am on the situation. I wish to feel the real emotion not the fears that ticking me.

I shall write again whenever I desire to talk to you. How was Heart’s Day?


Love,

Jhecel



                                                                                                                                      

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Maira Gall