Apologies to Cupid

Ask any angel what the most maddening aspect of humanity is and they will most likely explain to you how despite holding a firm grasp of respect and understanding of the human race, that knowledge is more theoretical in structure and application as opposed to being realistic. Practicality and wisdom are two concepts that are lost upon humanity from the eyes descending down from above, concepts that are lost in translation given the endless error and mistakes committed by the ones in the flesh.

Most of you are aware that God created the heavens and the Earth, along with your most humble race, to dwell upon his world below. You were hardly the first bastions of, well, intelligence, as he had first created a race superior in every measurable characteristic deemed admirable, a race many of you are familiar with, known as the angels. Pardon my brute honesty, but the sequel failed living up to the critical success of the preceding blockbuster, at least in terms of the distinguishable qualities and attributes of which I speak. Without further ado, I digress.

It just so happens that I am a full-fledged, card carrying and moderately high-ranking member of this angelic race, an order that carries with it extensive privilege along with responsibilities. Never having enjoyed the meager thrills associated with walking the Earth as a human, my outlook has been reduced to viewing your race much as you occasionally envy the ducks swimming on a pond, ignorantly wading around in circles of insignificance. To ease any strife upon translation to your ears and understanding and putting it into simple terms that you will best understand, I am a female angel, spending much of my time these days as a spirit roaming the Earth.

Aside from when I am beckoned for work and am being called upon to do so, my interest in the human race is generally a sporting one, having been waned down from centuries of babysitting you and your ancestors in terms of your aspirations.

Nonetheless the light of the new day brings about with it many new things and feelings, even to those of us that have seen the light for several millennia. Sometimes we just like to make a difference and use our powers for good and to better the world, and this happened to be one of those times.

Love, that most primal of all human emotions, and the aspect of your race that fascinates and intrigues my kind more than anything else, and unquestionably bring out both the best and the worst in mankind simultaneously. Hardly a stranger to the matchmaking game in terms of my service over the years, when I came across these two forlorn figures of note, the timing was just right to dust my hands off and work my magic. Perchance female spirits such as myself have more in common with our female human counterparts than one could have expected! The opportunity for impact that some potential couples have for power and worldly benefit is sometimes just too strong even for an angel to pass up, and this was one of those times...

Elizabeth was a girl that I felt an instant connection and admiration for. A middle child from the state of Texas, she was far from a rebellious cowgirl in her youth, rather she was of the studious variety; achieving high marks in most subjects, writing poetry, pursuing acting as a hobby, and excelling in her education. That was until the age of sixteen, when the usually sharp and witty teenager made a fateful error of judgment, dropping out of school and running off and marrying a cut-rate hoodlum--she was young and made a grievous mistake, as they often do. Fortunately for her sake, the marriage was a short lived one lasting a mere matter of months, allowing her to wipe the slate clean from her youthful transgressions and rise above and begin again with a fresh start.

This new beginning would take her back to mother’s home outside of Dallas, only this home was built not of peace and love, constructed instead with a foundation of animosity and bricks of anguish, a most lackluster sanctuary of refuge but quite hostile center of clashing. Spending much of her time working as a waitress in order to earn money and get away from her residential conflict, the primary benefit of the job was that it allowed her to interact with a variety of interesting people who had traveled from a variety of places near and far. Sharing stories with strangers, young Elizabeth listened to their words and envisioned herself along with them, providing her with a wealth of virtual, quasi-experience amounting to the zenith of how thrilling her life would be during this brief transitional period.                                          As the days passed and she added a few notches to her belt of years, she fought back the armies of her solitude and depression with the weapon of photography, practicing the art form that was the one thing that brought her happiness and joy. Still, she longed for the day when the stale mold would be broken, when she would break through the confines of her restrictions and problems and truly live again...

Bud, a boy so aptly named with an unusual moniker, was likewise a native of the Lone Star state. Coming from a very large and poor family, a portion of his youth was draped in homelessness. Whereas Elizabeth grew up with a talent for acting, Bud grew up with a talent for music, proficient in several instruments and playing concerts in school. The years tend to weather and wither away at talents that are not honed, and as it sadly was neither talent would ever be fully realized by either party in this instance. While Elizabeth possessed a good-natured clean heart, Bud was not blessed with such a good conscious, instead possessing a mean streak that coursed through his veins from a young age, a mean streak that would continue to boil throughout the rest of his life. While she compiled a list of achievements and grades, he compiled a list of arrests dotting his blossoming rap sheet as he ran a foul of the law.

More than anything else, the boy was a thief, and although he failed following up on his musical instincts, a great deal of time was spent honing and improving this less desirable craft, stealing items ranging from poultry to automobiles. What he lacked in book smarts he made up for in street smarts, growing adept at picking locks and burglarizing homes, stores, and banks alike. Becoming quite proficient in the art of evading authorities, Bud was far from perfect, and a growing fondness for robbery would prove a fatal mix, landing him a stay in prison. In spite of it all, he had much promise and potential to offer the world, he just needed another chance...

It is at this point where yours truly enters the picture. While it is true that the heavenly father created and casted free will upon each of his servants and children, along with the fact that us angels may not be doctoral candidates in the ways of human love, we are fluent enough in the phenomenon of pheromones to recognize when the sparks will fly. Searching and scouring the depths of ones soul allows us to construct a model, and from there all that is needed for matchmaking success is to find a corresponding model of another that proves to be the matching instrument in the proper cooperative areas, and a counterpart in the proper conflicting areas. Easier said than done as one could imagine, but some of us just have a knack for it.

Bringing together these two Dallas area dreamers proved my easiest fix since I brought together Marc Antony and Cleopatra some time ago, but alas, that tale is for another day. First, I tempered the mood just right between Elizabeth and her superiors, seasoning their emotions to such an extent for her to lash out at them and speak words she hardly could have intended to say, leading to her unemployment as she traded the cash that had been in her hands for ample helpings of time that now draped itself on them.

The best friend of Elizabeth was injured in a car accident when the brakes of a fellow motorist failed, causing him to lose control of the vehicle, crashing into the side of her car. Yes, I tampered with the brakes and caused the collision, sometimes fate just works best that way--although I would love to see a mere mortal attempt to prove my actions, much less obtain satisfaction from a supernatural deity in your court of law! The impact resulted in a broken arm for the girl, splitting her bone and requiring the nursing assistance of somebody, with the circumstances dictating that somebody in this case would be none other than Elizabeth.

You may have heard of the six degrees of separation? Often times it is much less than that, and given that Elizabeth’s friend with a damaged flipper resided in the same house as a close friend of Bud’s, there was only one degree separating the two teenagers from each other, hence why this particular endeavor of mine was so easy. In case you are wondering though, fate would not have brought them together had I failed to intervene-—believe me, I looked into the alternate history timeline, the only inevitability set in stone was that Elizabeth was destined to lose her job in time due to the rising fury of the Great Depression.

It was through my efforts that Bud stopped by this house of destiny at the same time that Elizabeth was providing comfort and aide to her friend, working on the kitchen stove preparing hot chocolate. Although I have generally never been one to give mankind credit for their inventions and innovation, I must salute their foresight in creating that specific hot beverage, delicious and palette soothing.

It was in this kitchen that the paths of the pair would cross, as the handsome, darkened eyes of Bud laid themselves upon the shiny glimmering gaze of the beautiful Elizabeth. The mesmerizing moment climaxed for the two with the tenacity and power surge of a strike from a bolt of lightning, and like a waltz with electricity, the chemical composition in the brains of the two were changed forever from that point on both mentally and physically.            The content and satisfaction, or what it had amounted to inside the heart of Bud instantly vanished, an empty void consuming his soul, a bottomless black hole that could only be filled if his heart were to be fulfilled with the girl of his dreams. There was to be no escape, no getting around it, Bud needed Elizabeth like he needed oxygen in his lungs, the deprivation of which would prove just as devastating. Another man occupying a role in the life of Elizabeth would have been of no concern; Bud would eagerly kill remorselessly any obstacle that dare place itself between him and his grace. Why, in those first moments, love struck and intoxicated with a lustful albeit honest desire, Bud would take up arms and wage war against God much like a certain fallen angel, if such was necessary to obtain her heart.   

Of all the sheer adjectives and emotions and numerous descriptions scattered throughout your English language about the subject, the greatest attribute of love must be the synchronicity, those glorious reciprocal, mirror-image patterns of giving every ounce of blood in ones heart, and likewise receiving them from your desired soul mate. Chaos reigns supreme throughout the world, just as it always has, it is far from a modern phenomenon, and often times love makes little logical sense, while simultaneously it is the only thing going that makes sense. In the angelic, metaphysical sense I can relate to such a feeling, although that was a long time ago, and that too is a tale for another day.

As Elizabeth laid eyes on Bud, the feeling was mutual, she would lay down the armies of whatever resistance she may have ever used before, bowing down at his advancements. Nursing the injured friend became an afterthought, much less the chocolate cooking on the stove, as everything else seemed to fade away from view. Unlike some of us Elizabeth had never ventured a visit to heaven, but as the golden glow of Bud’s presence resembled an angel custom built just for her, (complete with shimmering halo, although that may have been his hair), the girl felt as though she had died and awakened up above. Gone were the days of darkness, loneliness, which over time combine and become one and of the same. Commanding with his confidence and demeanor a wealth of respect, his aura seemed to pierce her vision and heart, striking her soul. Game set match, there was no denying it, from that point on Elizabeth was in love and would stop at nothing to follow Bud anywhere, even if that included the fiery pits of hell. Basking in the moment of my success I could not help but smile and pat myself on the wings...

From that day forward Elizabeth’s fate was in the hands of Bud like a lump of clay ready to be molded into whatever he pleased. The heart of the man, long coated in a solid sheet of stone all these years, was now beating meaningfully for the first time and was squarely in her hands. He would never leave her, nor would she ever leave him, as they joined forces and set off together on a path that would change the world forever.

Their love was perfect and was the gift that each had always wished for, as the girl that had been trapped for so long was now traveling the countryside and enjoying the adventure she had always yearned for. Underneath the hardened shell of the boy lay a burning desire for companionship that until this time had left a hole in his being that was most prominent and vacant. He now had fulfillment in his heart and being as he set aside his childish ways and matured into adulthood.

It is not easy to rise through the ranks to the top of any given profession, but the camaraderie and teamwork of the two, along with their dedication to hard work enabled them to do it. My creation fostered a superstar couple; giants of their respective genre that captured the hearts of the nation and would reap the windfalls of immortality through their various deeds and accomplishments that to this day cast a smile across my face.

Like so many other prominent romantic figures found throughout fiction and the real world, Elizabeth and Bud were not immune from a tragic ending, which came prematurely at such a young age when the two were shot to death by the enemy, clutching each other and holding hands as a barrage of bullets descended upon them. Despite having foreknowledge of the impending and unavoidable conclusion to their story, it still pains me when the day came, and tears still drip down my face when I think about how it all ended. Death is just something that is meant to be, something that angels such as myself have no control over. Life is much more tragic than fiction.

This hardly supplants the appreciation and pleasure I feel when I look back and remember the good moments and cherish the memories of the departed, in love and together for all eternity. I make it a point to see them whenever I can on the other side, and although a few things have changed from their heyday, many other attributes of the couple remain intact, much like their love, which continues to burn even in death. Elizabeth did wish for me to clear up one misapplication of her life that has continued to be held by the public: She fancies cigarettes, not cigars, as you may have heard.

Today just so happens to be St. Valentine’s Day, the holiday named for an early Catholic Saint that spread the message of God and love in his fellow man throughout Rome and beyond. Refusing to convert his faith in order to save his life, the man stood strong in his convictions and accepted death, and although I am required to hate the man, I can respect him for that. Besides, this girl is just a sucker for love.

My matchmaking prowess is not universally beloved and accepted, as there are many out there that despise what I do, claiming that those like me alter the work of God. Fortunately a growing number of humans on Earth respect, admire, and even cherish the work that I did with these two and others like them, and although I cannot help but view your species as second rate in comparison to us, appreciation and recognition of any sense warms my graces, after all we are all of us a creation of God.

The ones serving God in heaven surely do not look kindly to my deeds, but then again they are not the type to typically revere the work of non-law abiding angels such as myself. A holier than thou attitude is not restricted to humanity, as many up above speak of angels like me in derogatory terms and labels, particularly marking me with that dreaded “D” word, but that is only a matter of semantics and interpretation if you ask me.

Leaving footprints behind in the sand is another common goal shared by both angels and humans, and my work with these two certainly left behind some big shoes to fill for subsequent generations, many of them captivated fans of the couple. To think it all started when the two matured, when the girl left behind her needless drama and the boy left behind his petty larceny and vandalism as the two joined forces and graduated onto greater things, such as armed robbery and murder, spreading the gospel of light (or the gospel of darkness depending on your perspective)—and being celebrated and romanticized for having done so with a zestful appeal that continues to flow to this day. I could not have asked for anything more in terms of their legacy!

This girl narrating your story also shared something in common with Bud and Elizabeth, given that they rebelled against an unjust system, just as others and I had once done. Like them, we were later labeled as “criminals” as well, deviants branded as outcasts, our stripes removed in unceremonious humiliation. So in honor of Valentine’s Day, please take a moment out of respect and remembrance to honor my favorite couple: Bonnie Elizabeth Parker and Clyde “Bud” Barrow.

 

END