For the past two years, our celebration on Valentine’s has filled me with energy and excitement. It is always a busy day, and yet usually I find myself brimming with joy and eager to talk about it when it is over.
It was not this way this year.
Part of my despondency, I think, is due to a certain disconnect between myself and my fellow Cupids. After the hearing with its accompanying revelations, there has been a span of distance between us. Perhaps I am imagining it, and almost certainly it is of my own making, a result of my uncertainty. Added to that is my disagreements with my seniors, which have yet to be resolved. And then, I have been so busy that I have not been able to interact with my peers as I used to. All this meant that when Anteros led the wing down to Earth to spread our love in glorious mass, I did not feel all the warmth of it that I have before.
The other weight on me is that I was not able to give any of my charges the light and love that they deserve on this day.
Hannah threw caution to the winds this week and invited Jack to join her for a double date with Nina and her girlfriend. He was interested in the idea when Hannah proposed it, but this afternoon he called her, only an hour before they were supposed to go out to dinner, to tell her he couldn’t make it. I wasn’t sure whether his excuse was genuine, though he sounded sincere; I do know, however, that Hannah was disappointed. Nina and Erin were very kind, offering to let Hannah come along anyway, but she felt that she would be intruding, and so she went home again. Her apartment seemed even more empty than before she had left.
Harrington and Isabella had a lovely dinner planned, but his back was bothering him. He did a fair job of hiding his discomfort, but Isabella saw, and she suggested that they cancel the dinner. I was inclined to encourage Harrington to insist, since I knew that he would feel bad not to give his wife a good Valentine’s. But Brid weighed in that he really could use the rest, and so I let things be. At least with these two, I know that Isabella has plans to make up for the shadow on her husband’s spirit tonight.
Gabrielle and Nick did go out, though she thought the restaurant was very crowded and he was not impressed with the food. It went well enough, but the evening was soured when close to the end Gabrielle brought up the possibility of marital counseling. She asked—indeed, almost begged Nick—to go with her, but he was offended by the suggestion. He said that they do not need it so soon after they were married. I tried in vain to persuade him, and Gabrielle backed off too soon. They went home in cool silence, and another brick was added to a wall that has been building between them. Gabrielle wept into her pillow, but Nick did not hear.
I have not realized how unhappy she has been. I wish I had seen more clearly.
On the other hand, Anna’s evening went very well indeed. She is fascinated by Rob, who is a different kind of person than she is used to—outspoken, adventurous, and cynical. It worries me how quickly she is falling for him, when I can see so clearly that he is wrong for her. When she bothers to think about their differing beliefs—which is not often—she has a dim notion that she can change him, persuade him to see the world her way. I am afraid, however, that it will go the other way, and she will lose the light and security of her life.
Finally, and perhaps most frustrating of all, Freya’s evening was beautiful, but somehow hollow in a way that neither she nor I could explain. George had her over to his house—he had bought her flowers, made dinner, and was playing music that they both enjoyed, something that they had thought impossible on their first date. They talked, laughed, and spent the end of the evening curled up together on the sofa. It was lovely, and yet in the back of Freya’s mind was a dissatisfaction that kept niggling at her.
I am still not certain what has changed between them. They are still engaged in one another, still attracted to one another, and yet Freya is hanging back, feeling that something is amiss. Perhaps the novelty of the relationship has worn off. Perhaps there was something about the accident at the beginning of this month that altered one or both of them. I could not be certain, and neither could Freya, but we were both aware of the change, and it was not a good one.
I want to help her. I want to help them all. But some will not listen to me, and some have partners who will not listen, and some are caught in circumstances beyond my control, and beyond theirs, or so they think. Mysteries and difficulties surround us, and love seems to be in short supply this year.
I am tired. Perhaps I will be able to do more tomorrow.