Chapter Sixteen
I recalled I advised myself before never to make the same mistake twice. Because the second time I make it, it’s no longer a mistake but a CHOICE.
But is it a mistake when you fall over for the wrong guy? I guess not. No one falls in love by mistake. I believe it’s a choice. Maybe it’s just the lame decision that brought people to extreme heights of hurt and the sea of tears. I am just careful not to make the same mistake again.
I remembered back on sophomore year when solemnly pledged to myself never ever to get involved with this crazy little thing that stupid people call love. I even had a diary of the happenings I had every time I would see Cupid once. I know it sounds crazy but it’s true. I just can’t believe that I was so obsessed with him before that I even kept a diary to get a remembrance of the scenes! But that was a long time ago and I no longer keep that diary under my pillow. I’ve decided to keep a schedule instead but not my schedule in seeing him. Instead I have decided to provide myself a planner for my own life. Living life normally again without the shadow of Cupid.
But then again, that was two or three years ago. I am in senior year now. Next year I’ll be in college and I’ll be independent. Which brought me back to what I just said earlier, next year I’ll be independent—because next year… I’ll be eighteen.
Now as I sat on my bed, I opened my life planner—well, that’s what I prefer to call it. Then I checked on the things that I’d like to accomplish and I placed a check mark on the school play. Then I went down only to find the phrase: self improvement. What the hell does that mean?
As I tried to think about it I looked back at my wall. The one near my vanity table; where most of my picture collections were. I don’t really keep them piled or glued in an album. I think they would lose their significance if I keep them away. I remembered that wall was supposed to be where the stolen pictures of Cupid once hang. I smiled at the thought that I had tried burning them. But then I ended up having burns instead for trying to pull them out of the fire. That’s when my thoughts drifted back to Him. Will I try to apologize to him? But what would I apologize for? I pulled my phone out of my jeans’ pocket and I opened the message icon. When I was about to type the apologetic words, a message popped in to my computer screen instead. I looked up to see Cupid’s message. Immediately, I set my phone aside.
LoverBoy: I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.
That seemed sincere, but I don’t know. I knew I have to respond to him somehow. So I started typing:
PsyChick: It’s okay. Are you still mad at me?
I wanted to press enter but then I hesitated and I deleted the last part. Only then I pressed send.
LoverBoy: …
PsyChick: ???
LoverBoy: Why don’t you come outside your balcony?
PsyChick: Why?
LoverBoy: Please.
I sighed and I left my computer. Indeed Cupid was no romantic god that everyone knows. He’s just some plain guy who has a few words and would rather put everything else into action. He may know how to shoot arrows to any girl but he doesn’t know how to shoot his own heart. He may have succeeded once for shooting my heart but I was still thinking if I would still want to be shot twice.
My balcony isn’t so big like the one my parents have. It was just a normal size balcony with twenty steps from my door. It has a small roof like trellis, above it grew pink roses. I looked to my left side where I knew I’d see Cupid from his own balcony. He was sitting on a bench and when he saw me, he waved a hand at me. So he wasn’t mad anymore, it was a relief to know. I managed to wave back at him and he stood up, wearing a bear like hoodie with paws too (haha) and he raised a medium sized white board in front of him. Two words in bold letters were printed on it and it read: “I’M SORRY”.
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Cupid & Psyche
RomanceLet's just face it. Every love story has started with a simple crush on someone. All her high school years, Psyche Lumiere had dedicated herself to follow her ultimate crush; Cupid Confiar-- the hottest guy in school, only to end up in the heap of t...