Who Cares About Cupid…I Just Want The Candy


Truth be told, I am love’s number one fan. If I could hook myself up to an IV full of romance and feel it flowing through my veins, I’d be the first in line. As a poet, how could I not be drawn to all that love entails?

He Loves Me. He Loves Me Not. Of Course He Loves Me.

The butterflies. The starry moments. The heart palpitations. The passion. That first kiss. Oh, how I love that first kiss. The sexiness wrapped up in my espresso-colored locks after they’ve been tousled by an absolutely gorgeous (and very tall) creature. You get the point. Sure, as a writer, love works as my muse more often than not. The way I scribble about love, people always ask me if I’m in love…who’s the lucky guy? (Wouldn’t you like to know)

Really, it’s the idea of love that triggers my thoughts…and maybe every once and a while a certain someone I encounter, too. But I’ll never tell. Alas, back to Cupid. Should we really trust some (not-so-tall) character who saunters around half-naked (legally) shooting people with a bow and arrow? Well, apparently we should. Is this guy magical or what? I can’t help but notice the way he has the ability to restore faith in lovers scorned. How the mere idea of him can cure the ailing heart suffering the loss of love…year after year. He gives people hope…and hope is always a good thing.

Be that as it may, I’m still the kind of girl who has always been more of a fan of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre than St. Valentine’s Day itself. Cupid is not the equivalent of love, nor is Valentine’s Day. The day has morphed into too much of a quirky Hallmark holiday for me. It’s like, suddenly as February 14th nears, the entire world gets all lovey dovey. Everyone, mostly females, are suddenly convinced that being alone on this “holiday” is worse than being caught in a pair of last season’s Louboutins. I’d rather have the red bottoms, thank you.

I mean, I understand giving props to all-things Valentine, but as for love itself…isn’t the best way to pay our respect to such a powerful force more effective if we embrace it every time we step out the door? I know for me, each time I might cross paths with someone who seems to appear out of nowhere, I appreciate the powers of Fate and Destiny…Love’s sassy cousins. It’s so obvious everything happens for a reason, so I guess thank you Cupid, to you and your family, for dropping these delicious delights in my path sunrise to sunset.

But as for narrowing the Valentine-esque gestures associated with February 14 to that one single day, I’d rather get dressed in something that will accentuate those Louboutins…on any given day…and spend it in good company, dabble in great conversation, and embrace a few moments leading to some tousled hair by the end of the night. Hey, at least I’m honest. And if love happens to find its way in between our conversations, both verbal and physical, then so be it. But it surely won’t be happening because it is February 14th…because when you have the right person, love evolves into a timeless entity of its own, and that my friends, cannot be defined by any specific day or title.

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