I think Cupid is drunk sometimes. I can only assume that’s the case when he hits one person with an arrow, but completely misses the other.
I remember sitting across from a girl I really liked, looking into her big brown eyes, caught up in conversation, discovering all these things we had in common — and just feeling dumbfounded. “How can she not feel what I’m feeling?!” I felt the magnetism of undeniable kinship pulling me to her, but I knew she didn’t feel the same.