Waiting (For)Ever

Written by Nafiisah

Illustrated by Kurroooii

 

Has Cupid diminished? Were his arrows ceased and his trances eradicated? The pits of my stomach were dull with the yearning for butterflies. In my dreams he was there, as our hands shook, speaking a promise that love was to find me. He smiled in the garden of my imaginations, his arrows presenting solace, saying that one day it would return to me with my one true love. And when I had arrived in my reality, my eyes caught onto his mockery.

            Left - A man kneeled, tying the shoelaces of his lover. She laughed in awe of his ridiculousness.

            Right - A woman gave a gift to him and he smiled. His eyes enamored, not by the gift but by her.

            Front - ‘I Love You’ the word repeated itself in the air, a dozen voices spoke them warmly.

         

            As I walked through the dull hallways, I cursed Cupid and all his falseness. Perhaps I was asking for too much? But was his duty not to inflict love onto the hearts of humanity? Every eye that gazed upon my soul had given me hope.

            Maybe he’s the one!

            No…him!

            He looked at me twice, right?

            If only eyes could speak their feelings…perhaps then I’ll know.


            But love is a foreign language, one that I have heard so many times and yet could not translate. I grabbed the pillow, letting its pool of soft cotton comfort my dismay. I could say I had made a deal with the devil, disguised as the God of Love. Or perhaps they were conspiring with each other to bring forth misery into my life, surrounding me with emptiness and the desperate need to fill this gaping void with a thrill of romance. Because who would not want to be loved? To have a lover that could hold you tight, cherish you with all his might and look at you as if his feelings had existed before the constraints of time. In my own realm, my lover had been there, and as I opened my eyes, cupid's empty promise stared right at me. 

            I threw a dart to the face of Cupid, shamelessly hanging on the other side of the room.

            I waited.

            I waited

            Was I a fool, looking for a train that would never arrive? The stack of romcom DVD’s held their pitied gaze, romance is not dead, it sympathized.


            But the more I wait the more it will disintegrate. And what was I doing anyway? I skimmed my room, the word love had intoxicated the small space. No longer was it a desperation but this was an obsession. I recalled our promise, as Cupid’s forgotten words rose to the surface of my mind, before our hands shook.

                        Though romance is all that you want, it is not all that you need.

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