Cupid & Psyche: Chapter Eighteen

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Chapter Eighteen

It would be hard to take part on somebody’s life when you’re not even part of their scripts.

Bob Ong once said that. I believe he was right. If life is indeed a movie and you’re not part of people’s scripts then it’s better to step out of the film before you ruin it. But I always thought of being inside one’s script. At least be a supporting role or maybe the heroine. But life is never fair with me not even love.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t people love me the way I love them? Am I that hard to love? As much as I want to blame my mind, my heart, I only have to blame myself. Because the mind only thinks and gives information; the heart only beats to give my body enough supply of blood. There’s no one to blame but me.

It’s not all that I can understand is true and not all that I can’t understand is lies. So far I don’t want to believe to whatever Cupid had told me. I know I had pushed him too far that it led him to tell me that. So, then it is true. I am such a fool.

I lay in my bed for hours after that day. My parents didn’t mind me at all since they were at the hospital tending to my sick sister. Well, probably Cupid was also there tending to her.

My door slowly opened and Phoebe’s head popped in. She smiled at me and she hopped in my bed like a child.

“Hey, sweety, how’s the week? Are you enduring it?” she asked as she hugged one of my throw pillows. When I didn’t answer she looked down and she saw my close to death face.

“Oh shit.” She hissed. She cleared my hair out of my face. “What’s wrong, Psyche? Tell me.”

I cried. “I don’t know what else to…” I trailed off as I cried.

My sister brought me close to her and she hugged me.

“Everything will be all right. Would you want to tell me?”

I told her what happened yesterday and she acted hysterically more than me.

“I can’t believe he said that. Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

I cried again after she said that. “I tried everything! Why can’t he like me? Huh? Why can’t he like me, Phoebe?” I sniffed as I hugged my pillow.

“Sis, you just can’t force anyone to love you.” she tapped my pillow. “Look at this way, love is like… a manhole.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “What? Why does it have to be a manhole?!” I whimpered back again.

She hit my head with her hand. “Listen. It’s just an example! Love is like a manhole.” I intended to react but she shot me a glare. “It’s so scary if you fall down from it. And when you fall… it’s either by accident or you’re really just an idiot.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I am an idiot.”

She sighed. “Do you love him?”

“I…” I sniffed. “I think I have always loved him. He’s just so dumb to know.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him?” she asked.

“Because he doesn’t have to know.” I thought for a while. “Maybe when he loves me too only then I’ll tell him.” I prompted then I sank back to my pillow. I hid myself under its comfort.

Phoebe sighed heavily. “Don’t hold on to something if you’d only let it go.”

I pulled the pillow away from my face then I gave my sister a puzzled look. She just gave me a smile.

“They say that when you love a person set them free. If you’re meant to be, you’re meant to be. But if not, then it’s not…” I trailed off as I ran out of words to say.

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