Heartstrings of Destiny

The Date Dilemma

"I can't take my eyes off her. Miranda Kerr is just stunning. I'm ready to put in the work for her," Candice gushed. "She's so gorgeous, I'm running out of words to describe her. And the fact that she already has a child just adds to her charm!"

Fiify chuckled. "Oh, if only you knew what Candice was thinking," she said to Poopy, who grinned mischievously. Fiify turned to Candice, a curious look on her face. "What's on your mind, Candice?"

Candice blushed, shaking her head. "I'd rather not say," she mumbled. "I'm feeling a bit embarrassed."

Instead of pressing Candice, Fiify turned to Poopy. "Can she read my thoughts?" she asked.

Poopy shook his head. "Only I have that ability. It's a privilege that not everyone gets," he explained. "Reading minds comes with great responsibility, Candice. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Candice raised an eyebrow. "Can you read Fiify's thoughts?" she asked.

Poopy shook his head again. "Nope, my powers only work on humans," he clarified.

Curious, Candice leaned in. "Tell me more about these privileges," she prompted.

"Well," Poopy began, settling onto the bench with Candice and Fiify joining him. "I can read minds when necessary, but I can't read other angels' thoughts. And it's not like I can read everyone's mind all the time, only when the situation calls for it."

"So, did the situation call for you to read my mind?" Candice asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

He smirked. "Nope."

"I thought my thoughts were supposed to be private!" Candice complained, feeling a bit invaded.

"What's on her mind?" Fiify asked, noticing Candice's discomfort. She couldn't read Candice's thoughts though, so she looked to Poopy for an answer.

Poopy just shook his head. "How's the task I assigned you, Fiify? Is it resolved?" he redirected the conversation.

Fiify grinned proudly. "Absolutely! The unwanted connection has been severed. Now all that's left is to bring Karen and RB together."

Candice, curious about the process, whispered, "How do you actually sever a connection?"

Fiify conjured a pair of scissors, the handle red and the blades golden. Even the scissors looked exquisite.

"So, the cutter is literally just scissors?" Candice asked Poopy for confirmation.

"Fiify has the responsibility of cutting these connections, and these scissors are no ordinary tool," Poopy explained. "They're the only things powerful enough to sever these bonds because ordinary weapons won't even scratch them."

"It would be catastrophic if the wrong person got hold of those," Fiify added. "Imagine a world where love suddenly disappeared. It would be the end of humanity as we know it."

Candice shuddered at the thought. "Yes, it would be dreadful. Without love, people would lose vital human emotions like empathy, compassion, and hope. It's a scary prospect."

"Think about the potential for wrongdoing without love," Poopy remarked, seeming to echo Candice's thoughts.

Candice barely whispered her next question, trying not to attract attention to herself. "Once the connection is severed, can it be restored?"

"If they're lucky enough to find their true love, then yes, the connection can be reestablished," Fiify answered.

"But Fiify can only cut unwanted connections. If she severs one that shouldn't be disconnected, there could be consequences," Poopy explained.

"What kind of consequences?" Candice inquired.

"We're not sure. Fiify has a spotless record so far," Poopy replied with a grin.

"So, you're the only one with a checkered past?" Candice teased him.

Poopy shrugged. "I guess you could say I'm unique like that," he replied.

Later, when they arrived home, Candice went straight to her room to work on her manuscript. Poopy sat beside her, watching her type. Candice felt a bit perplexed by his presence, but she focused on getting her thoughts onto the page before they disappeared.

She heard him sigh. "After everything I've told you, are you still going to give me an undeserved ending?" he asked her eventually.

"Everyone deserves a happy ending, even those who've made mistakes," Candice replied calmly, noticing Poopy's tense reaction. Even though she couldn't read his thoughts, his body language spoke volumes. She turned to him, offering reassurance. "Don't be too hard on yourself. What matters is that you're trying to make things right."

She put her laptop to sleep mode and settled onto her bed, leaning against the wall. Patting the space beside her, she invited Poopy to join her, and he did.

"What's heaven like?" Candice asked, curious.

"It's like paradise. Green fields, majestic mountains, clear rivers... everything that's slowly disappearing on Earth thrives there," Poopy described.

"Are there many people in heaven?" Candice inquired further.

Poopy nodded. "Angels and human spirits coexist peacefully. But they can't see our faces; all they perceive are blinding lights. That's why we reside on the clouds while they enjoy paradise."

Candice frowned. "Don't they become angels too? I always thought that going to heaven meant becoming an angel."

"It's not that simple. We've existed long before humans, and becoming an angel requires detachment from earthly matters," Poopy explained.

"Detachment?" Candice puzzled. "But aren't angels supposed to be involved with people?"

"Yes, detached. We're not permitted to form attachments to individuals. Our duty is to consider the greater good, not the desires of one person," Poopy explained. "When we become attached, it skews our judgment. Imagine if an angel of death became attached to someone; they might either hasten or prolong that person's life based on their feelings, disrupting the natural balance."

Candice pondered his words, realizing the weight of their purpose. "So, everyone has a predetermined time on Earth? It's all predestined?"

"Exactly. Every event, every plan is meticulously laid out. Everything happens for a purpose," Poopy affirmed.

Candice furrowed her brow. "So, my role as a matchmaker serves a greater purpose?"

"You have a destiny to fulfill," Poopy replied gently. "But for now, you need to rest. It's almost dawn." He gestured towards the clock.

"It's fine, it's Saturday tomorrow," Candice yawned, feeling the fatigue creeping in unexpectedly early.

She leaned against Poopy, feeling comforted by his presence. "What about the girl you loved? How deeply were you involved with her?" she asked curiously.

Poopy sighed. "Let's strike a deal. You stop asking about her, and I'll answer any other questions you have."

Candice grunted in frustration. Poopy had a way of withholding information while still keeping her engaged.

"Alright, tell me more about the angels," Candice prompted eagerly.

Poopy nodded, beginning to explain. "Each of us has a specific task and belongs to a particular group. I'm part of the group responsible for love and connections, along with Fiify and Aphrodite," he said, noting Candice's interest at the mention of Aphrodite. "Then there are the angels of death, who have the duty of taking people's lives."

"That sounds awful," Candice remarked, her sympathy evident.

Poopy smiled gently. "It's a natural part of the cycle, Candice. They help facilitate the process of reincarnation, ensuring the continuation of life."

"Tell me more!" Candice urged, intrigued.

"There are also guardian angels, possibly the largest group, tasked with protecting humans. When their assigned human passes away, they're reassigned, often to a newborn," Poopy continued.

"Do I have one?" Candice asked, curious about her own spiritual guardians.

Poopy shook his head. "Not at the moment. Right now, you have me," he reassured her.

On Saturday, Candice received an anonymous text message asking her out on a date. Despite her repeated inquiries, the sender refused to reveal their identity. Just as she was debating what to do, her phone rang, displaying an anonymous caller ID.

"Hello?" Candice answered, immediately recognizing the voice on the other end.

"Ma'am!" the voice exclaimed. It was Jasper, the mischievous kid who had been teasing her all week.

"Yes, Jasper? What's up?" Candice asked, wondering why he was calling now.

"Did you get his text message?" Jasper asked eagerly.

Candice furrowed her brow. "Who is he?"

"Your secret admirer, ma'am! He's about to reveal himself to you. Come on!" Jasper urged.

Candice felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. Part of her was curious to meet the mystery sender behind the gifts and messages, but another part was nervous about what might happen. "But what if I don't like him?" she voiced her concerns.

"You can always turn him down," Poopy suggested, his voice tinged with amusement.

"What if he doesn't take no for an answer?" Candice worried.

"Ma'am?" Jasper interrupted, sensing her hesitation.

"Nothing, Jasper. I'll think about it. Thanks," Candice replied before ending the call. She glanced at Poopy, feeling reassured by his presence. "You'll be there with me, right?" she asked him.

"Yeah, but I doubt I can be much help if things get out of hand. I suggest meeting in a crowded place. Just a precaution," Poopy advised.

"Okay," Candice nodded, searching through her drawer for an outfit. She debated whether to put in more effort or if what she had was sufficient. The thought crossed her mind that if the person she met was unattractive, her effort would be wasted.

Poopy shook his head disapprovingly, catching her thought. "Why are humans so fixated on looks when they're fleeting?" he questioned.

Candice defended her stance. "Looks matter in reality. It's like a gift wrapper. When it's appealing, you're inclined to see what's inside. Our physical appearance is a reflection of the impression we want to make."

"But your society's standards of beauty can be limiting. All creatures are made beautiful. We're all created in the image of God," Poopy argued.

Candice pondered his words, looking up at the ceiling as if addressing God directly. "If we're made in God's image, what does He look like? Does He have imperfections?" she wondered aloud.

Poopy tried to simplify his point. "Think of it like this: imagine two rocks—one smooth from a river, the other rough from a mountainside. Which do you find more beautiful?"

"The smooth one, of course," Candice admitted.

"Exactly! Your society's view on beauty is skewed. You focus on flaws, but those imperfections can enhance beauty," Poopy argued, shaking his head at the human perspective.

Candice rolled her eyes. "Can't you help me pick an outfit instead of lecturing me?" she quipped.

"Oops, sorry about that," Poopy grinned sheepishly.

After some deliberation, they settled on gray skinny pants, a loose blue sleeveless blouse with a cardigan, a blue and gray bonnet, and black and baby blue Chucks.

"Can you see him?" Candice asked Poopy. "He's wearing a blue shirt and a black hoodie. And he said he brought flowers."

Poopy chuckled. "What's so funny?" Candice snapped.

"Nothing," Poopy replied innocently, though his amusement was evident.

"You should have gone with that dress," Poopy remarked, tasting his words.

I followed his gaze and saw a guy wearing a blue shirt under his hoodie, holding a bouquet of flowers. My heart sank as I realized it was Joseph Marco standing just a few feet away from me.

"Oh no," I muttered to myself. "I definitely should have worn the dress. Actually, I should have worn my best one."