Drunk Cupid

She sat on the bench, cheerful as usual, smiling as usual. After all, the test had been difficult, and she'd gotten an A, no small reason to be happy. Surrounded by her friends

, she chatted, glancing glumly toward the door. Toward the school exit. Because he would be there soon, finished his lessons, and as usual, would head home with his red-haired friend. It wasn't the first time, nor the last, she had basked in the sight of him. It was all that remained to her. It was the only way she could feed her heart thirsting for love, her soul yearning for warmth. His warmth. But alas. She couldn't count on anything more than a chance glance. This knowledge hurt more than the reality of things. He didn't love her. He didn't love her, and she loved him so much...

***

"I could be the most important person in the world to her," he said to the empty walls of the room. His fists froze in a tight grip, and his gaze penetrated the window, beyond which the autumn wind tore the world apart. He wanted to die. Disappear... Not be, not feel. Because the thoughts hurt the most. Memories... He'd shown her his feelings more than once. He'd tried to make her fall in love with him more than once. And she, as if out of spite, would turn her back on him and walk away with an ironic smile on her lips. He's not for her. He's on too low a ledge, and she has no intention of stooping. Because, after all, she could have anyone. A better one. She doesn't love him. She doesn't love him, and he loves her so much...

***

They walked slowly along the park path. Hands, joined as always, swayed gently in the air. Eyes turned in opposite directions, seemed to completely ignore their companion. Silence. Is it "enjoying the silence"...? The presence of the other...? Apparently so. But appearances are deceptive. A couple... He and She. Connected by deep feelings... Love. But do they really love each other? Each of us is an actor. One plays worse, the other better... So what's the point of this whole scene...? If they feel nothing for each other except sympathy...? Why are they a couple at all...? Is it out of habit? Because they're friends...? But are they better off together, if deep down they're unhappy and lonely anyway...? He and she... don't love each other.

Turn your head and look, and you'll see them. Her and Him. Two flames lurking around the next corner. So many who need so little to be happy. So many who love but aren't loved. They give love to those from whom they don't receive love. They laugh, though they're not at all cheerful. Look... They stand two steps away. Faithful and unfaithful. But what does God have to do with this...? After all, it's Cupid who sends arrows of love, aiming first at Her, then at Him. So why, instead of uniting, does he divide? Could he be having vision problems...? Or perhaps he's contracted the recently so-common "drinking" disease? Will the God of Love now be just Drunken Cupid...?