Cupid’s Resignation Letter
– Even Cupid’s heart grows weary; after all, who mends the heart of the god of love?
To whom it may concern,
I, Cupid, the so-called “god of love,” am formally resigning from matchmaking, effective immediately.
I’m curious. Have you ever thought of how Cupid feels? Playing matchmaker, witnessing countless love bloom and wither. You’d think it’s a fulfilling job – watching couples fall for each other with your assistance.
After eons of shooting arrows into hearts, whispering sweet nothings, and playing matchmaker between mortals and immortals alike, I can no longer continue this tiring and emotionally draining job. You’d think with my reputation and expertise, this would be a simple and fulfilling task, right? But, alas, it’s anything but.
But sometimes, even the most fulfilling job can become a burden.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen the spark of love in its beautiful moments: the shy, awkward smiles on the first date, the hand-holding that makes your heart race erratically, the endless happiness of two souls intertwined. It’s not that I don’t love those moments. They’re the reason I’ve endured for so long. But I’ve come to realize that love, in many ways, can become a cruel joke to some played on by the universe.
Even the most fulfilling job can give you a sense of unfulfillment when it doesn’t become as it should have been.
I am sick of the endless cycle of hope and heartbreak. I am tired of watching others fall in love only to watch them fall out of it months later. I’ve witnessed too many forevers turn into goodbyes. What frustrates me most is that I can’t seem to fix it. No matter how many arrows I shoot or how many stars I line up, love always seems to fade for others. The flames burn bright, but only for so long. Then, it’s just ash.
We never considered this possible side of Cupid, haven’t we? We always thought that his life revolved around this – shooting arrows into the hearts of couples. But the truth is, no one ever asked what happens after the arrows land, when promises start to fade, and hearts break.
I thought I could bring balance into your lives, but I’ve seemed to complicate things only. I’ve forced mismatches and torn apart perfect pairs, all for destiny and true love. It’s exhausting. Now I realize that love isn’t a fairytale – it’s a series of choices, and I can’t control it anymore.
I’ve spent centuries taking charge of love, but who’s there for me? Who will fix my heart when it breaks? I’m done trying to fix what can’t be fixed.
Even Cupid, the god of love, has his own heart – craving to be loved and appreciated the same way he does for people.
Now, it’s time for me to step back. Let humans figure it out on their own. If they find love, that’s great. If not, that’s their path. I’m leaving my bow and arrows behind, and perhaps they’ll find a new purpose. But this time, without my assistance.
Goodbye, and good luck.
Sincerely,
Cupid
This alleged resignation of Cupid made me realize a lot of things. It reminds me of how even the ones we rely on for love and connection can grow weary. That even the strongest, the ones who bring us together, can feel the weight of heartbreak themselves. Perhaps love is not meant to be controlled – it is meant to be felt and experienced in all its beauty, even if it can be imperfect sometimes.
We often perceive love through a narrow lens – it’s magical, effortless, destined – as if we are living by the plot the universe has built for us; to navigate hearts and make them stay forever. But love is more than that. In its truest, most genuine form, love isn’t about grandeur, perfect moments, and the biased idea of forever. It’s about the choices we make to stay in that relationship.
Choosing to stay when it feels easy to walk away.
Choosing to understand when silence prevails.
Choosing to listen when pride tempts us to ignore.
Choosing to forgive when the hurt linger.
Choosing to stay when the spark fades.
Choosing love every day, even when it’s no longer easy.
Love is imperfect, yet enduring.
This, Cupid’s resignation letter, made me question, have we become too dependent on fate, on arrows and signs, that we often forget to truly nurture love ourselves? Have we forgotten that love isn’t just about finding the right person but also being the right person for them?
Maybe in his absence, we are meant to take responsibility and make sacrifices for love – to mend what is broken, to continue holding on, and to accept when it’s time to let go.
So, without Cupid, life continues and love still finds its way – inevitably flawed yet beautiful all the same. Some lovers held on, some drifted apart, some never met at all. Yet, now, it’s no longer a god deciding what happens next, but the people themselves.
Perhaps that was the lesson all along.
Love isn’t meant to be dictated by fate or united by arrows of love. It was meant to be chosen consistently through all uncertainties.
Then, maybe,Cupid didn't resign out of exhaustion, but rather, to remind us that genuine love doesn’t revolve around magic, sparks, or butterflies. It’s a decision, a promise to endure and battle all challenges – together.
So, this Valentine’s Day, let us not just celebrate the love that is new, exciting, or effortless. Let us also celebrate the love that endures, love that chooses, and love that stays – even without Cupid’s arrows guiding the way.
