Cupid

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Even Cupid realized he’d made a mistake. And in my mind I saw him fly off nonchalant nonetheless. Because we’d been hit and in that moment Cupid was no more the angel of love, but the angel of death. Things had never been meant to go well for us, never had there been the foundation for a happy ending. No amount of hard work and committing would do. No matter what, we were doomed.

 

l.a.

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