One beautiful spring morning, Cupid was lazily reclining on the divan in his bedroom, lulled half asleep by the soft, warm breeze that gently rustled the curtains hanging over his head. Everything was peaceful and quiet.
Suddenly, the blissful calm was shattered by a thunderous sound rumbling up from the ground, shaking everything out of place. Startled to full alertness, the god sprang to his feet and took a swift glance outside. This isn’t Jupiter’s doing, he realized, his eyes widening. There was only one other explanation.
“Mother,” he murmured softly.
No sooner had he uttered her name than Venus flung his heavy door open and sailed into his room in full fury.
“Take your arrows and fly to my rescue, at once!” she ordered, almost wailing with livid anger, “In a town many miles from here lives a terrible maiden who men have seen fit to honor as if she were me!” Venus’ eyes blazed with jealous fury, “Man has allowed my temples to fall into utter ruin because they love her more than me! I will not stand idly by while that foul wretch receives the kind of honor that is due only to me! Now, go!”
Cupid watched as his mother worked her way into a full-blown rant, her eyes gleaming with vengeance, “I want her to fall in love with something so hideous that men will run from her presence rather than bear the sight of her lover! But, my son,” she cautioned, “if you can’t find any monster that fits that description, then you must ask every god and goddess if they will create something especially awful for her. And you must tell me if one of them dares to refuse you!”
“What’s the lovely maiden’s name, mother?” Cupid asked coolly, snatching his bow and a full quiver of arrows off the wall, happy to do her bidding.
“Psyche,” Venus spat as if the name had a vile taste.
Instantly, Cupid sprang out of his open window. Flying low and fast over the hills and dales, he searched for hours for the lovely girl while he considered what kind of awful beast that he might make her fall in love with.
Thinking back to similar cases, he remembered the other girls who his mother had ordered him to ruin. He’d made some fall in love with rocks and others with worms or insects. Once, he remembered with harsh, almost disgusted, laughter; he made a particularly enchanting girl fall in love with the waves of the sea, dooming her to an endless cycle of ecstatic joy when her lover rolled in and paralyzing grief when he left.
His mother’s fury against that girl had been particularly unrelenting, and she’d never tired of watching her hapless ritual, even when the pitiful thing had grown old and gray, wrinkled and weathered because she refused to leave the beach.
Of course, it was not as if Cupid relished the business of ruining the lives of the fair maidens who roused the jealousy of his mother, and thinking about the men who forced the goddess’ hand with their misplaced adoration always provoked his bitter anger. If those fools would only give Venus her due, their beautiful maids could be left alone! His mother wasn’t against the happiness of mortal man. In fact, she, the goddess of love, rejoiced whenever a handsome man chose a lovely bride to be his own. But she was a goddess and must be given her due.
Suddenly, the sounds of happy girlish laughter made him pause in the middle of a thickly wooded forest. Then, moments later, he was startled to hear the same voice cry out in pitifully despairing tones. Perplexed, he flew closer and, parting the branches of a moss-covered oak tree, stared into a wide, flowering meadow.
What he saw knocked the breath from his lungs.
She was a maiden of exquisite delicacy. Tall and slender with waves of shimmering blonde hair that fell to her knees, the gorgeous young woman wore a thin, almost revealing, robe that looked fit for a princess and was adorned with simple but regal jewels. So light and graceful was her step that it seemed to Cupid as if she danced instead of walked across the grass, stopping to give each man in the large crowd surrounding her individual attention.
It must be her, he thought, excitedly. Psyche!
Out of habitual obedience to his mother, he silently drew an arrow from his quiver and smiled grimly when he spied a wart-covered toad hopping towards the top of a rock formation near where Psyche was standing. It wasn’t a Minotaur or Cyclops, or any other horrible monster for that matter, but he could always hope that his mother wouldn’t really care once the deed was done and her temples were restored to order.
Setting the arrow against his bow, he pulled the string taut.
But he couldn’t release it. No matter the loyalty that he felt towards his mother, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin this mesmerizing girl! His fingers grew white with tension as he told himself again and again to complete his mission, and yet still, he could not.
Gritting his teeth, he began to consider other options. Maybe his mother would be pacified if he made one of her many suitors fall in love with her. Then she would be married and out of the way.
Adjusting his aim, he scrutinized each man as they admired her, making her happy with their attention. But time and again, Cupid rejected them when they turned away from her beauty and grace.
These men don’t deserve her, he thought. If a man can’t love Psyche without one of my arrows piercing his heart, then he doesn’t deserve her!
Then, suddenly, the powerful truth that had been needling his heart from the first moment that he’d seen her became clear. He couldn’t make any man fall in love with her because he himself was in love with her!
As the realization welled up in his heart, Cupid began to feel as if he was suffocating, knowing that loving Psyche would expose her to the full onslaught of his mother’s fury
But, with every moment, her beauty and grace grew on him until he couldn’t imagine living another day without her.
Shuddering, he still tried to put his feelings aside by thinking about what his mother would say and do when she inevitably found out. He didn’t like the consequences, but no matter how he looked at the situation, he still felt as if he had no choice. He was in love.
With his mother’s fury in his mind’s eye, he could only whisper three words.
“I am finished.”