Claire rubbed the temples of her forehead as her eyes grew heavy. Today's therapy sessions wrapped up an hour ago, leaving her absolutely exhausted with still a few case notes to write up. She wasn't sure if she helped anyone or if her years of psychotherapy training were beginning to pay off, but one thing was for sure, all the fighting between her couples was beginning to wear her down.
It was days like today that she thought it might be better if Cupid really did exist, if maybe there was some baby in a pair of diapers going around shooting people in the ass with a magic dart gun of love.
A knock at the door interrupted her faint hopes. She glanced up from her patient's notes, lowering her reading glasses as Trevor walked into her office. One look at him and she took back her wish almost immediately. A delusional Cupid with a bow and arrow was certainly not a better solution.
"Hey Claire. Zeus finally gave me back my favorite toy. Wanna go see if it still works?"
Trevor was always convincing her to do crazy things and for some reason she always let him. Today, Trevor convinced her to head out to the city park, hunting for couples who he thought looked good together. She tried in vain to warn him that it was more than just looks, couples wouldn't work together and form lasting bonds without the right chemistry.
Every time Trevor would glance away, wild with the thrill of the hunt and having his toy back, she would finger the first of three numbers on her cell phone. No matter how much it pained her to call in the police and have Trevor committed, they would know what to do. She sure as hell didn't. How could you argue with a man who thought he was Cupid? She never could before.
She was still fiddling with the cell phone when the bow and arrow went off. Claire starred wide eyed as a tall black man was shot in the heart. Her mouth dropped and she started to run up to him, worried he might die from something she let happen. She should have called the police quicker, she should have stopped Trevor from the craziest of his schemes, she should have--
"Shh, Claire. Let the magic work."
Magic was a foolish thing to believe in these days. You might as well believe in love at first sight, or story book love that made you feel like you were walking on air and your prince charming would make everything better. Things didn't work that way. There needed to be trust built, on both sides. And compromise. And a mutual understanding of the participant's roles in the relationship.
And yet, she watched in awe as the arrow vanished into thin air and the man began following the first girl he saw. Twitterpattered, her mother would say. Her mother believed in all that Disney romance crap. The man seemed to be enjoying this moment, living only for the day and completely enthralled with the woman of his dreams, whom he'd only just met a second ago.
With a mercy blow, Cupid (--er Trevor, Claire corrected herself. He would always be Trevor, always delusional and crazy and mad), shot the woman in the heart too. Claire also watched as that arrow hit the target, but without rushing in to stop things this time. The woman was going to be okay. The both of them would be fine. They might even fall in love. Trevor might actually be Cupid. She put a hand to her head, feeling woozy all of a sudden.
This was crazy. Maybe Trevor's sickness was catching, resulting in a shared hallucination in her cerebral cortex. Her mind filled with technical terms, trying to explain away everything. Folie à deux. Grandiose Delusion. Love.
Some things couldn't be explained away though. Some things you needed to take on faith. Claire shot Trevor a frown. She didn't take anything on faith these days, least of all a delusional patient with a magic bow and arrow.
"This is ridiculous."
"This is love, Claire. Love tends to be ridiculous."
His words seemed to dance on the wind, floating by like the clouds of Olympus. It reminding her of those storybook ideals and a once upon a time when things were with her grasp. Back then, she could be anything she wanted and do anything she dreamt of in her mind-- a mind which had grown harsh and analytical over the years.
Claire used to believe in all the things she preached about, she used to believe in love. But that was such a once upon a time ago that it seems hard to place the memory of that time into actual history.
She reached her hand to her heart, finally feeling the sting he placed there a year ago. Trevor Hale. Tremor and Hale. Cupid. What did she believe? What did she want to believe? She wasn't quite sure right now, as she felt her hand around the arrow.
"You shot me."
It was the only thing she could say, the only thing that made any sense. Where she wanted to go with that information, she wasn't quite sure. They couldn't be together, there were bigger things to think about, consequences that would destroy her career and the future of her relationship with the man to which she was actually engaged. What was his name again? Alex-- Alex something-or-other..
"You shot yourself, Claire. I didn't have a bow and arrow back then. I only just got it back now."
"But you knew.. did you know?"
"I could tell, but I worried it might just be wishful thinking. I am prone to delusions of grandeur or do you not remember your clinical diagnosis?"
She remembers all the words she put down in her case notes for him. She tried for hours to pin down his diagnosis, tried to explain away the unexplainable. And there she was now, standing with the man who shot her in the heart, still without an answer to this riddle.
But some things weren't meant to have conclusions. Some riddles were just there to tease your mind with and be forever an unanswerable question to roll around your brain.
With no logical reason for doing what she did next, Claire reached forward and kissed her way into their shared hallucination, never wanting to come back down to earth.
-The End-
