Can't Fix Cupid

It’s not until I feel my defibrillator kick in to correct my heart’s erratic beating that I realize I won’t be making it up the rest of the steps.

A surprised puff of air leaves my lungs just as I fall hard to my knees and start rolling all the way back down the hill.

My head smacks hard against a piece of driftwood as I land on the ground, and I stare up at the night sky unblinkingly, grimacing at the poetic justice of it all.

It seems fitting that my heart would give out right here, in the spot where Trix tried to give me hers.

The last thing I see in my mind is Trix’s face. The last thing I feel is pain stabbing into my chest. The last thing I hear is the waves rushing up the shore, like they want to wash me away. The last thing I say as my heart gives out is one final truth. “I love you too.”

And then, there’s nothing.

Chapter 33

Trix

I’m going to get popped like a damn pimple.

I haven’t been able to use my powers for three weeks. Three godsdamned weeks of my cupidity totally shitting on me.

Maybe it’s because my heart isn’t in it. I don’t know.

Every time I try, I either get a putrid exhale that does fuck-all, or my Lust somehow turns to a serious dose of loathing instead.

I’m pathetic.

I’m heartbroken.

And my time is running out.

Warren won’t love me back, and my powers refuse to work. Maybe the Veil should take me out.

What good am I? I can’t fulfill my purpose. The man I love doesn’t want me. So I’m not sure what the fricken point is anymore. Why did I go through all of this to just end up erased from existence?

Fate is an even bigger bitch than those karma cunts.

I’m lying in the nudist colony’s meditation retreat. It’s really just a fancy name for a repurposed garden shed. It’s only about four feet by four feet, but it’s set apart from the houses, near the colony’s vegetable garden, and it’s usually empty, so I’ve been coming in here to be alone.

Funny how I keep seeking separation when all my heart wants is to be with someone. A very particular someone. A someone who doesn’t want to be with me.

Fuck. Fate.

I sigh, squirming on the pillows on the floor and breathing in the burning incense as I look up through the makeshift skylight. When I feel tears hitting my cheeks, I brush them away angrily. You’d think after three weeks, I’d be done crying, but apparently, this particularly physical gesture can linger forever.

It comes on suddenly, too. One second I can be sitting there, and the next, I’ll see something that reminds me of Warren, and I’ll start bawling like a baby.

Heartache fricken sucks.

The door to the meditation retreat suddenly opens, causing my legs to fall down, since my feet were propped up on it.

I look up at Hum Judy, and when her eyes land on me, her lips purse. She comes inside, knocking my legs aside so that she can tug the door closed behind her. Then she sits down across from me, spreading her legs out beside mine.

“You have tissues stuffed up your nostrils,” she points out unhelpfully.

“This is more efficient,” I say, pointing at my nose. “The tissues catch my snot every time I cry, so I don’t have to keep blowing it. My nose was getting chafed.”

Hum Judy does not look impressed with my ingenuity. “You gonna wear that thing every day?”

I look down at Warren’s suit jacket that’s wrapped around me. I know, I know. I’m pathetic. But it still smells like him, and I miss him, dammit.