Cupid's Touch

“Red String of Fate .” Sketches, Doodles, and Tragedies, Tumblr, 24 Feb. 2014, 78.media.tumblr.com/2f1fd6da64f43290a6267717bb1ab7b4/tumblr_n1j758TsFQ1sqiwzqo1_1280.jpg.

I met Hugo on a snowy day in December. I had spent my day pretty productively - I brought together 4 different couples who were fated for each other. I know it sounds bogus that I claim they were truly fated for each other, but I’m actually quite certain... see, I have a gift of sorts. Some have called it a blessing, and others have called it a curse. I’m still not firmly decided on either. In essence, I can see soulmates. I know, some people don’t believe soulmates exist, but I say “don’t shoot the messenger” - you can take it up with Cupid, not me. Nearly every person has a “love line,” or a string wrapped around their wrist that connects to another individual. If both halves of the couple are ready to be in a relationship, I can see their names woven together within the rope. There were only two instances when I witnessed soulmates finding each other firsthand, and each time they touched their love line began to strengthen and pull them towards each other. Hugo’s love line was unique. It extended from his wrist forward and then just…. stopped right in front of me. None of the love lines I’d ever encountered had just ended so abruptly. Even if their soulmate was dead - which has happened - the line is just half as thick as a normal love line. This was something completely new. Hugo figured that something was off, most likely from the expression of utter shock on my face. He seemed to be the sensitive type, so I didn’t quite know how to break it to him, but he actually took it very well. Bear in mind, this was the first marginally interesting thing that happened to me in my two years of matchmaking, so I was very committed to figuring out what was wrong, and (as is to be expected) Hugo was too.

We ended up pulling an all-nighter, reading and re-reading the few books I had on the general topic of love lines, but it’s not exactly something many people can write about. When we weren’t reading, we were discussing theories or just getting to know each other a bit better. He went home that morning, leaving his number and plans to meet at the library to see if they had any books on love lines.(It was a huge reach, but it was the only option we could think of).

I went to the library a little bit early to return the books I had and perhaps find some new ones. I walked around the corner of the philosophy section engrossed in the back of my new book and promptly collided with someone. As I glanced up to apologise, we both laughed. It was Hugo, but something was different. His love line (although still sticking straight out towards me), was glowing a bright red. I felt a swoop in my stomach as the shade of the line began to spread over my face.

“Oh, are you okay? Why are you so red?” Hugo began to rub his head where we had collided as his eyes met mine, anticipating an answer.

“Oh, uh - I…. your, your line is…. It’s glowing. Red.” I stammered out. He promptly turned a proper scarlet to the very tips of ears as he connected that fact to our crash course in love line lore last night.

“So…… maybe we should… uh, talk about that?” He began to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

“I- I’ll…. Can I talk to you later? I’ve got to go… do something. For my mom. Text me and we can figure it out.” 

I turned and veritably fled the situation. On the street everything looked different. All the love lines floated nebulously around me, making my vision faded and semi - hazy. Even the line between a couple that was holding hands and obviously in love was a vague pinkish tone.

We met at a little diner down the street from the library that evening. I slid into the booth across from Hugo; neither of us managing to make proper eye contact.

“I think I’ve figured it out,” I murmured. “Firstly, as you probably guessed, we’re soulmates, hence the glowing love line. But when I left yesterday I realised every other love line was fading, and…” I hesitantly placed my hand on his, and realised how much brighter our love line had become since the day before.

“And ours has only turned brighter, which only happens when….”

“When two people are falling more in love,” He finished quietly, finally lifting his eyes from their intent study of the table pattern. “But I thought…. I thought you can’t?

“I did too, but…. Well, here we are I guess. I do believe it, though. ”

“But if you don’t have your power, everyone else will have to survive without….you know….. What you do, and we can’t have that. What do we do?” He looked at me, his eyes swimming with worry and a hint of what I (perhaps wistfully) could have thought of as love. We both knew the most logical solution, but neither of us wanted it to be true. I had thought hard that afternoon, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that I could actually fall in love with someone. But I realized this morning when we collided in the library that being with him I can be myself, and he makes me genuinely happy.



And I finally knew what to do. This power that I’d been given, it really wasn’t a blessing or a curse. It was a gift, a gift for me because without it, the rest of the world can stumble through awkward first dates and heartbreaks, but without that gift,

I would never have been brave enough to find Hugo or love.