Cupid Dressed in Black
For my first official act on blogger I'd like to present a short story based in reality.
CUPID DRESSED IN BLACK
Inspired by True Events
by
Cynthia Vespia
© Copyright 2008
They say it’s better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.
Bullshit!
You get your heart broken enough times and "losing" really starts to ache.
So with each "loss" you start building up your wall, brick by brick, until you stomp that hurt right our of you and you have enough defenses set up to never allow that pain inside again.
"I’m set," you say. "Nothing can penetrate this fortress."
And that’s when that chubby little fucker sneaks up behind you, bow drawn, and fires – not a warning shot either – a full on assault that shatters your wall deep in the mortar until it crashes all around you. Now you’re vulnerable again thanks to that fat fucker, that Cupid dressed all in black.
"Hey baby, I’m bringing you the greatest gift of all," he says through lips parted around a thick cigar, making him look more like a member of Hell’s Angels than the deity of love.
"You brought me chocolate?" you reply, without the slightest twinge of humor inflected in your statement.
"LOVE, baby," Cupid says as he blows a puff of smoke from his stogie and the ringlet transitions itself into a large heart wisping over the top of your head and leaving you to feel all giddy.
Cupid’s trance leaves you seeing things through the perpetual rose colored glasses but it doesn’t last long. You’ve been through this trickery before.
With a wave of your hand you clear the smoke ring from the air and your thoughts return to being the cynical majesty that you’re accustomed to.
"Love is hardly a gift...and stop calling me baby, you’re the baby!"
"I may look the part but you’ve got the role down to a tee," he tells you. "Whining, complaining, throwing a fit when things don’t go your way. No one said love comes easily, you’ve got to work at it a little bit everyday...starting with that blockade you had covering your heart. I’ve started you off but the rest is up to you now."
With that Cupid leads you by the hand back out into the world of dating. It seems much like a field with cows grazing. Cows of all shapes and sizes. Some branded (meaning they’re taken), some listless and lazy, some more fat than substance, and some wandering around just as confused and scared as you are.
So with your new exposed heart slamming in your chest you decide to approach a cow you fancy. But wait! That’s your usual M.O....go after the cow, knock it over the head, and take it back home to become a juicy burger or steak.
These cows may be dumber than a box of rocks but they can see that bloodlust in your eye and they scatter before you can even break out the A-1 sauce.
So a change of pace is in order. Let the cow come to you. They say there is one out there for everybody. But you can’t chase it because you’ll never catch it that way. Stand still, unassuming, looking content, and then do something to make that cow notice you. Hold out some hay, or an apple, and here comes one now.
"Mooo!"
Wait, what? Ok enough with the cow references. So you’ve attracted your man. He approaches and says "hi" and you reply "Duh?"
Ya, that’s right, all tongue-tied, all full of worry and self doubt because of that hurt from the past creeping up again – brick by brick.
"Don’t do that," he says. "You don’t have to have your guard up with me."
"Ya sure," you think. "And the minute I open my heart to you, you’ll find a way to stab me in it, bleeding the ground red with my trust."
So you shun him.
"No thank you," you say, your reservations creeping back in. "I’m better off alone."
"If you honestly believed that you wouldn’t keep venturing out here looking," the man tells you, and now as you observe him closer you see that he is a handsome man – "handsome devil" perhaps with malice in mind. But the twinkle in his eye insists that you stay and hear him out.
"When a fisherman goes out to the lake he has to cast his line again and again before he lands a good catch. Sometimes the catch is no good and he has to throw it back. Sometimes he waits all day and goes home with nothing. But y’know what?"
"What?" you ask breathlessly as the fish analogy seems to resonate with you (what with your fascination with barn animals).
"The fisherman will come back the next day, and the next, and the day after that. And he’ll wait patiently with his line cast and eventually, after days of bad fish, no fish, and so-so fish, the fisherman will land his prize fish and he’ll pull it from the water and proclaim that it is the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. Then he’ll hang up his pole, satisfied with his catch, and return home never to fish again. It's just like the quote from Ovid states: Let your hook be always cast. In the stream where you least expect it, there will be a fish."
"That’s a lovely story," you speak truthfully from your open heart now and the man, his own heart pounding open and free, is equally as truthful in his reply.
"And you are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on."
An involuntary smile spreads your lips wide and your open heart accepts love in for the first time in years.
"So you’re going to hang up your fishing pole now?" you ask.
"Never did like fishing much." he replies.
There you have it. All grown up and ready to taqke the plunge...again. Still seeking that "happily ever after" and all thanks to that Cupid dressed in black.
*No part of this story may be reproduced without express written permission
CUPID DRESSED IN BLACK
Inspired by True Events
by
Cynthia Vespia
© Copyright 2008
They say it’s better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.
Bullshit!
You get your heart broken enough times and "losing" really starts to ache.
So with each "loss" you start building up your wall, brick by brick, until you stomp that hurt right our of you and you have enough defenses set up to never allow that pain inside again.
"I’m set," you say. "Nothing can penetrate this fortress."
And that’s when that chubby little fucker sneaks up behind you, bow drawn, and fires – not a warning shot either – a full on assault that shatters your wall deep in the mortar until it crashes all around you. Now you’re vulnerable again thanks to that fat fucker, that Cupid dressed all in black.
"Hey baby, I’m bringing you the greatest gift of all," he says through lips parted around a thick cigar, making him look more like a member of Hell’s Angels than the deity of love.
"You brought me chocolate?" you reply, without the slightest twinge of humor inflected in your statement.
"LOVE, baby," Cupid says as he blows a puff of smoke from his stogie and the ringlet transitions itself into a large heart wisping over the top of your head and leaving you to feel all giddy.
Cupid’s trance leaves you seeing things through the perpetual rose colored glasses but it doesn’t last long. You’ve been through this trickery before.
With a wave of your hand you clear the smoke ring from the air and your thoughts return to being the cynical majesty that you’re accustomed to.
"Love is hardly a gift...and stop calling me baby, you’re the baby!"
"I may look the part but you’ve got the role down to a tee," he tells you. "Whining, complaining, throwing a fit when things don’t go your way. No one said love comes easily, you’ve got to work at it a little bit everyday...starting with that blockade you had covering your heart. I’ve started you off but the rest is up to you now."
With that Cupid leads you by the hand back out into the world of dating. It seems much like a field with cows grazing. Cows of all shapes and sizes. Some branded (meaning they’re taken), some listless and lazy, some more fat than substance, and some wandering around just as confused and scared as you are.
So with your new exposed heart slamming in your chest you decide to approach a cow you fancy. But wait! That’s your usual M.O....go after the cow, knock it over the head, and take it back home to become a juicy burger or steak.
These cows may be dumber than a box of rocks but they can see that bloodlust in your eye and they scatter before you can even break out the A-1 sauce.
So a change of pace is in order. Let the cow come to you. They say there is one out there for everybody. But you can’t chase it because you’ll never catch it that way. Stand still, unassuming, looking content, and then do something to make that cow notice you. Hold out some hay, or an apple, and here comes one now.
"Mooo!"
Wait, what? Ok enough with the cow references. So you’ve attracted your man. He approaches and says "hi" and you reply "Duh?"
Ya, that’s right, all tongue-tied, all full of worry and self doubt because of that hurt from the past creeping up again – brick by brick.
"Don’t do that," he says. "You don’t have to have your guard up with me."
"Ya sure," you think. "And the minute I open my heart to you, you’ll find a way to stab me in it, bleeding the ground red with my trust."
So you shun him.
"No thank you," you say, your reservations creeping back in. "I’m better off alone."
"If you honestly believed that you wouldn’t keep venturing out here looking," the man tells you, and now as you observe him closer you see that he is a handsome man – "handsome devil" perhaps with malice in mind. But the twinkle in his eye insists that you stay and hear him out.
"When a fisherman goes out to the lake he has to cast his line again and again before he lands a good catch. Sometimes the catch is no good and he has to throw it back. Sometimes he waits all day and goes home with nothing. But y’know what?"
"What?" you ask breathlessly as the fish analogy seems to resonate with you (what with your fascination with barn animals).
"The fisherman will come back the next day, and the next, and the day after that. And he’ll wait patiently with his line cast and eventually, after days of bad fish, no fish, and so-so fish, the fisherman will land his prize fish and he’ll pull it from the water and proclaim that it is the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. Then he’ll hang up his pole, satisfied with his catch, and return home never to fish again. It's just like the quote from Ovid states: Let your hook be always cast. In the stream where you least expect it, there will be a fish."
"That’s a lovely story," you speak truthfully from your open heart now and the man, his own heart pounding open and free, is equally as truthful in his reply.
"And you are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on."
An involuntary smile spreads your lips wide and your open heart accepts love in for the first time in years.
"So you’re going to hang up your fishing pole now?" you ask.
"Never did like fishing much." he replies.
There you have it. All grown up and ready to taqke the plunge...again. Still seeking that "happily ever after" and all thanks to that Cupid dressed in black.
*No part of this story may be reproduced without express written permission
Labels: dating, love, relationships, stories, writers
posted by Author Cynthia Vespia @ 9:31 PM
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