Cupid

I'm a cupid. Yes, you definitely read that right. A. Cupid. One of thousands. We have existed since ancient times for one specific purpose - to unite mortals under the bonds of 'love.' So you've probably heard the tale of the 'original Cupid,' but not many people know that there were actually three. Mercury and Diana's kid came first, then Mercury had another with Venus, and Venus had a third with Mars. They were meant to represent three different types of 'love,' and they played a more active role than other gods when it came to messing with mortals.

As time went on, the baby cupids grew up and decided they wanted to divide their workload. The human population was increasing, so three cupids weren't going to be enough to cover them and still allow for free time - like finding love for themselves. Therefore, they decided to make us, 'the cupids.' They crafted us from clay and let us wander free among the mortals, doing their job wherever we went. We knew what we were made for and didn't question it. And we are almost exactly like humans apart from three exceptions. Firstly, we're immortal - perpetually stuck in the age we were designed to depict (usually late twenties) and forced to bear the weight of eternity on our shoulders... Sigh. Second, we can fly. We have a small pair of feathered wings, although they're mostly for show - we actually fly through a kind of psychic levitation. Third, we can imbue anything with cupid's power. You know the drill - shoot two people and they fall in love, yadayadayada. Most cupids are old school - they make their own bows or crossbows and imbue the ammo. It's mostly harmless to get hit by it, but let's just say that what you mortals 'feel' when you experience attraction is painful for a reason.

Me, I was made by the third original Cupid. He was assigned to be a parallel to Anteros - the Greek god of mutual love and avenger of unrequited love. I apparently only inherited the first part of that - I'm very much an advocate of consent and mutual attraction, but if it's not meant to be, why force it, why punish someone for not falling in love? That's one of the reasons why I don't really like my job, nor the other cupids. Though it's not the only reason. You see, there's actually a fourth difference between us and humans... Unlike our creators, we can't experience romantic love or attraction. That's the price you pay for immortality when you're literally made from dirt.

I've been all over, I've met and talked to people of all backgrounds, but I've never felt anything towards them. At first, I didn't care. Why would I want to be attracted to what was essentially another species? ... I don't know... When you've been stuck living among humans for centuries, surrounded by their social constructs of relationships and marriage - when your work is literally matchmaking... You can't help feeling a little left out. And you get sick of them making comments at you. "A young maiden such as yourself, how art thou not betrothed? Wouldst thou entertain thouself a spinster?" I actually can't remember exactly how they said it, it has been five hundred years, but you get the idea. These days it's more, "Oh my god, are you still single? Girl, you need to lower your standards, or you're going to be alone for-like-ever." Gee, thanks. But gods forbid you should say "that stuff isn't for me" - humans tend to get really huffy when you rebuff their social norms.

These days, I'm living in the USA. Partially by choice - I was assigned there, though I have to admit, I really enjoy the food. I set up this little coffee shop in New York - 'Bean My Valentine,' and on my way to work, I always stop by this place on the end of the block that sells the best bagels in the world. I have lived and dined in Venice, Rome, Brussels, Prague, and Amsterdam, yet I had never tasted anything as miraculous as those bagels. That's the closest I can get to love - love of food.

A coffee shop is a great place for a cupid's base of operations. People come in all the time on blind dates - I just hit 'em on the back of the head with a peashooter while they're not looking, and voila. Once a month, I get a visit from my supervisor to check on my workload. Ten matches is pretty good for a 'hermit' cupid like me (one that works from a single place for years at a time). Fifty is more fitting for a 'nomad' cupid who moves around a lot. I usually stay in a place for just long enough that no human actually recognises that I don't age. I made a mistake of staying too long in London during the sixteenth century. I was there eighty years, and I didn't think anything of it until one woman pointed out that I dressed like her grandmother. Ooh boy, that got me in big trouble. The Council of Cupids implemented a lot of new laws after that - one of them being that every hermit cupid had to be assigned a nomad supervisor.

These past couple years, my job's become a lot easier. A few nomad cupids came up with this dating website, 'SnapMatch' - it's like the card game, except you snap profiles based off common interests. Anyway, the site is set up to recommend local cupid-owned businesses for first date locations. I registered my coffee shop, and I've never had a slow day since. It has its downsides though - it's hard to secretly hit people with a peashooter when the shop's full.

I have my own system - I never try to match people who I know aren't going to be a good fit. My supervisor hates me for it - saying I'm taking work from the couples' therapist cupids, the flower shop cupids, and the Valentines gift-seller cupids. But hey, I've got to stick to my principles.

I get a few people come in, usually guys, who say their date's a no-show and so try picking me up instead. I have a few excuses prepped; "I have a boyfriend." "I have a girlfriend." "I'm married, but I'm not allowed to wear a ring at work." That one's usually the most effective - a lot of humans won't take a simple 'no' or 'not interested' for an answer. In the few instances where they can't be convinced, I can call up 'bodyguard' cupids who have an additional rare ability to be able to wipe memories. They're useful in other circumstances too - like the aforementioned instance of being called out for not ageing. I try to avoid resorting to employing them where possible - memory wiping can have nasty side-effects.

So, the modern age is pretty easy for cupids to fit into, at least in the interests of work. We live, and we match couples - forever. I'm not saying it's all bad - the pay's pretty good, and we kind of have a hand in shaping human society; I just wish that it didn't come with being isolated all the time. The other cupids say they're happy with the way things are, and they have each other to talk to so never feel alone. But I've never really fit in with them. They can mentally distance themselves from human society - viewing humans as dolls to be puppeteered. I can't. I see humans walk in my shop who are terrified of opening up their hearts to anyone - scared that they're not good enough to love or be loved. Or those who are worried at the thought of meeting up with a complete stranger, scared that they'll have some dark ulterior motive, or that they'll not bother showing up. Those humans put their vulnerable hearts on the line for a chance at being seen, accepted, loved. Well, you also get the humans that are only after a one night stand, but I'm sure they have their own insecurities too. In short, humans are fragile. And they are blessed with the gift of being able to experience the one thing cupids never could. Whether it's romantic, familial, of things, of food, of the self, affection, or friendship, humans' lives are full of love. Of course I'm jealous of them.

I believed I was destined to spend eternity alone. Then one day, miraculously, life presented a different fate for me. The shop was empty, until a woman in her thirties came in - her nose nervously pointed in her mobile phone as she ordered herself a coffee and sat down. She set it on the table and took very light sips of her drink. I knew immediately that she was human - she wore a top with a low cut at the back, showing off her complete absence of wings. She waited at that table, delicately nursing her drink for almost an hour before I went over to talk to her. I offered a refill and asked if she'd be interested in buying any food, and she told me exactly what I had expected - she was waiting for someone. She appeared forlorn, although not in the usual way I'd come to recognise.

And then, she looked straight at me and asked - "Is my mom outside watching me?"

I was confused, scanning my eye out the window for any sign of someone staring in. Indeed, there was a cab parked on the curb - an older woman with binoculars sat in the back seat, watching the back of her head. I nodded, and the customer sighed into her seat.

"My mom set me up on a blind date. She doesn't want me to be single anymore. Thankfully, it doesn't look like they'll be showing up."

Again, I didn't really understand the complexities of her situation, yet I nodded along. After a brief silence between us, I offered her a slice of pie on the house for her nerves. She was grateful, and it gave me the courage to figure out what was really going on. "I'm guessing you don't like who she picked?"

"I don't like anyone she picks." At first, I interpreted it as she didn't like the type of people her mom set her up with. Then she continued - "I don't think I've ever been attracted towards anyone."

That... Sounded an awful lot like a cupid. But how was it possible?

"How do you know?" I was genuinely curious, although I think she was insulted by my question.

"I can't really explain it. When I was in middle school, everyone in my class got all bothered over crushes, everyone except me. My mom always used the excuse that I was a kid, and had loads of time to worry about it. Then high school came around, and I still didn't feel anything. And college. Sure, I'd occasionally find people cute, but not like others did. In college, everyone was sleeping with everyone, or wanting to. I just never felt that pull, you know?"

I did know. I knew exactly what she meant. I was unable to feel attracted to anyone because I was a cupid. But this lady? Did that mean she was immune to cupids? I had to know. "Do you have friends?" She nodded... And backed away a bit from me. Of course, that was too personal. So it wasn't an immunity - no, that wasn't it at all. It was something else, something special. I needed to know more about her. Were there other humans who felt that way? "I'm sorry... I've never met any human like you." I reined myself in. "Would you maybe mind telling me more?"

"Um... I'd rather not. I barely know you, and it's kinda private. People always pry into it when I tell them."

I panicked. I had to know. "It's just..." My body shook, and my palms suddenly became cold and clammy. "I think I might be like you." I sighed into the table - I couldn't lie to her if I wanted her to be open with me. "Look..." I stood, went over to the windows and flipped the sign to 'closed.' Then I dropped the blinds. "Okay, you're going to think I'm nuts, but hear me out." Doing all that made me look even more crazy, still it was the only way to show her what I needed to without her spying mom or new customers seeing. "I'm not human. I'm a cupid. I was made to spark mutual love between humans. And as a cupid, I'm physically incapable of feeling love myself. All of us are like this. But I've never heard of a human that can't experience that kind of love."

She was understandably rattled by my confession - mostly that I'd shut her in an empty shop and stood blocking the only exit. "Are you insane?" I watched her punch 91 into her phone.

I proved it to her - by floating up to the ceiling. "See? I can fly. Human's can't do that." She remained cautious. "And look-look!" I flew behind the counter, pulling out my peashooter. "That pie, what did you think of it?"

She glanced at it briefly, I think suddenly wondering if I'd poisoned her. "It was okay..."

"Wait for it." I spat an enchanted bean at her, then at the pie. Both beans disappeared in a puff of pink smoke on contact. She held her arm in terror. "Now what did you think of the pie?"

Her eyes slowly widened, and she dropped her phone back on the table. "I... I loved it."

"See? Cupids can make humans feel love for anything. And it's not just romantic love or love for food, it can be familial love too. Most midwives and doulas are cupids - they help bond parents with their kids. And we do friendships as well. There are cupid teachers, therapists - we do all sorts of jobs."

I sank to the floor and went to open the blinds and flip the sign again. The woman's mom was right outside the window, and jumped when she saw me. I opened the door with a grin. "I'm sorry mam, these blinds are new and I was just making sure they worked properly. Are you interested in coming inside?" After a minute, she shook her head and walked back to the cab.

"Okay, so let me see if I've got this right..." The woman began, pinching her brow. "Cupids are the reason humans feel any kind of love or attraction for anything?"

"Well, yeah. That's what I thought at least. There's no reason a cupid would have left you out specifically when it came to your attraction for someone else."

"You people have shot me before?"

"Yeah. Why?" I gulped. She stared boldly at me, fury building in her fists.

"And do you get people's permission to do this? Or do you just shoot everyone and anyone you feel like?"

"W-" I stuttered. "It sounds creepy when you put it like that." I decided to back down. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I'd probably have to call the bodyguards later to wipe her memories of me... No, I couldn't do that to her, she didn't deserve it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you, or scare you, and I'm sorry this is how we do things. We don't mean anything malicious by it, it's just what we were made for. I thought I knew everything there was to know about humans, I always thought you were so lucky - being able to experience all kinds of love. I figured only cupids felt any different. To hear that there might be humans like that too, I don't know, it got me curious."

"When you say cupids feel different..."

"Well, we can love things, food, and we can have friends... Still, nothing more than that."

She paused, darting her eyes away from me briefly. "For the longest time, I thought something was wrong with me. When you live in a society where you're judged by your 'body count,' or lack-thereof, sometimes it's like being suffocated. Everyone told me that my standards were too high... I've only ever wanted a sign that I wasn't alone, that the way I feel is... Okay... Normal."

I gazed at her, earnestly. "What every human feels is different. That's normal." My cheeks suddenly felt like they were burning. "And you're not alone. You're like me... Mostly... You know what I mean."

She took a napkin from the dispenser on the table and scribbled on it with a pen. "Here." She handed me the napkin, detailing a sequence of numbers beside her name. "This all still sounds crazy to me, but maybe we could talk again another time when you're off work, over coffee?"

"Yeah..." I stared at my feet, chuckling nervously. I cast my eye about the place, intimidated by my own choice of décor - all shades of red and pink with heart decals. "Actually, I know this awesome bagel place down the street."

She laughed. "Sure, sound's fun! Oh, and if my mom ever comes in here and asks - you were my date." She beamed and left, the bell over the door chiming as she went.