Thursday, April 16th –☉ in ♈, ☽ in ♒, ☿ in ♈, ♀ in ♊, ♂ & ♄ in ♒ ♃ & ♇ in ♑
A peculiar sensation came over me last night. After yet another day of pining and moping and not washing my hair, I was in bed, reading about today’s transit (Sun square Jupiter, which is hitting my natal Cancer Venus like a sledgehammer), when I had this sudden urge to check my phone; it was as though I was expecting the Aries to text me.
Ok, maybe it doesn’t sound all that strange, so let me explain.
It was our routine to talk every night around 11:30 or so. After I brushed my teeth and got into my Jetsons sleep shirt and grey thermals, like clockwork, the Aries would text me: “Hey, Love.” or “Love, are you up?” And last night, I felt those same sensations — the expectation, the glee, the indecision of whether I was gonna snub him or not — as though he and I were back in our usual routine. It was all very depressing.
What’s worse, there’s a little corner of my room, where I have books and other trinkets stacked atop my cabinet speakers. Among these stacked trinkets are all of the gifts the Aries gave me: a charm necklace with my Sun, Moon, and Rising signs, a necklace of my Celtic astrology sign, patchouli incense, and a heart chakra candle. It’s been weeks since either the incense or the candle have been lit (for obvious reasons), and I don’t quite have the strength to throw them out. Yet the patchouli incense keeps emitting its seductive scent. Smoke-like, it glides in and around every nook and cranny of my bedroom, invisible yet unmistakable in its scent and the memories this scent stirs.
In flashes they strike through my head: the day at the rocks when he gave me the incense as a thank you for reading his birth chart; our first kiss in the mountains when we were both so nervous-yet-so-excited to feel one another’s skin; that sunny September day when he told me the feelings he had for me terrified him; that cold December afternoon in the snowy mountains when we made out for hours in his car…
Do these memory flashes and wafts of the incense mean the Aries is still thinking of me? Do I want him to? Maybe all this incense nonsense is the product of my Pisces’ Moon’s imagination. Pisces is the dreamiest sign in the zodiac. Or maybe the memories are just a byproduct of being alone during a quarantine. Isolation does make people do strange things…
Yet as much as it feels like a betrayal to my self-respect, I have to admit that I miss him. I thought about his 7th House Capricorn, how it makes him a stalwart partner who takes care of his responsibilities even at the expense of his own happiness; and I was filled with so much compassion for him. I didn’t see him as a liar as a cheat as much as I saw — or rather, felt his guilt, his shame, his confusion…
The Aries wanted whatever I symbolized, but he knew that he had to do the responsible, Capricorn thing, he had to sacrifice his wants and return to his marriage, his duties. I’m not saying that what he or I did was right or justified, but it makes sense. We were both bored of our routines and responsibilities — him probably more so, even though he loves his wife. That’s the funny thing about love, it shifts and changes as you age. The Aries tried to tell me that one day, he said he would love me even when all of the fun and lightheartedness disappeared and was replaced with hardship and all the other difficult things that test love. And I refused to believe him; I said he and I would be different.
Feeling forlorn and in need of social interaction, I called my favorite Capricorn in the world, Deidre.
If this were non-quarantine times, I would have gone to Bound & Battered, my favorite occult bookstore, of which Deidre is the owner, to talk about my problems. Instead, I imagined I was face-to-face with my Capricorn guru, surrounded by the many astrology, tarot, and divination books that fill the towering shelves of Bound & Battered. I mentioned this to Deidre.
“I’m actually hiding out at Bound & Battered because I’m getting sick of Stephen,” Deidre said, her voice flat with deadpan humor. “It’s one thing to be married to someone, but it’s quite another to be required to quarantine with them. How’s everything with the married Ram?”
“Well…” I sighed before telling Deidre everything that had happened: days before Venus entered Gemini, the Aries called and said his wife was gonna kick him out because she found out we had been seeing each other, then he dumped me like a hot potato.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Camille,” Deidre said.
“Yeah, the funny thing is, the Aries told me he wanted a divorce, so I don’t know why the threat of a divorce was so frightening to him,” I said.
“Because men are cowards and they don’t ever want to be thought of as the ‘bad’ guy,” Deidre said, “which is ironic because they end up being the bad guy by not being honest about what they want– this is especially true for married men.” She sighed. “At the very least, I hope you’re done with him. No woman deserves to be treated like a side attraction.”
“True, and that’s what I’ve been telling myself, but it’s been rough,” I said. “That damn Libra Full Moon. All I kept thinking about was the Libra New Moon, because that was the night the Aries told me he knew I was his Twin Flame.”
“I wish men wouldn’t feed into that crap,” Deidre scoffed. “You’re told all throughout your 20s that there’s a special someone, a ‘soulmate’ or a ‘Twin Flame’ just out there waiting for you. Well, that’s simply not true. Very few of us are lucky enough — if you even want to call it luck — to meet someone who doesn’t mistreat us or get on our nerves. I mean, Sarah and John have a special relationship. Is it perfect? No, but it’s special in that it works for them. The only thing any of us can ever hope for is to find something like that, because that at least is real.”
“But my dreamy Pisces Moon wants to believe there’s more,” I argued.
“You’re probably too young to understand this,” Deidre continued, “but you’ll reach a point in your life when you’ll accept reality instead of trying to out-dream it.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, unconvinced. “I just wouldn’t mind having a real relationship for once.”
After I hung up with Deidre, I couldn’t rid my mind of the Aries. The smell of the incense returned, and so did my memories. I kept thinking how Keara had won, how she had done the thing that — even with my knowledge of astrology, my knowledge of how to get the Aries-Sagittarius-Cancer to stay — I couldn’t do; she threatened his sense of security. She threatened to rob him of his family, his nest, his life of comfort, all the things that his Cancer Ascendant and Cancer Mars valued. So his Cancerian pertinacity kicked in, he dug in his crab claws, and finally made the decision he couldn’t make for seven months. He did the one thing he kept saying he couldn’t and wouldn’t do: he chose the past over the future.
When I woke up this morning, I felt the Aries with me; it could’ve been that I had a dream about him and I, and it was trickling into my morning, infecting my real feelings with false dream feelings; or, it could’ve been that I simply wanted him, that I missed him. I don’t know. I just know that in a way I understand why he had to do what he did, why he couldn’t stand up to his wife, and later, why he chose her over me; I also know that my understanding, my compassion, my abundance of tolerance is why he was never going to be with me.
The Aries needs to be with someone like Keara, someone who doesn’t put up with his shit; Saturn-type figure; a Juno to his Jupiter. Indeed, Keara is everything I’m not: a mature mother figure, with a stable job and a desire for family. She’s just the type of person the Aries with his Cancer Mars and Rising wants and needs. And it makes sense why they’re together, why they’ve stayed together: her Saturn squares his Sun. In other words, her stability and maturity keeps him grounded, if not blocked. He’s afraid of her; she knows how to reel him in, discipline him, put him in line. Whereas I’m too soft, too fun, too forgiving, too self-involved, too much of a fucking Gemini-Pisces-Leo. I say “stomp all over my heart, it’s ok, because once it heals, I’ll just let you do it again, because I just want your attention, your love.”
Last night, I kept calling out to the Aries, and I was tossing and turning, because I felt him. I keep telling myself that I won’t go back to the way things were with him because I can’t do that to myself again, I can’t sacrifice my self-respect by being his “side chick”. But after last night and this morning, after the incense, I wonder if my resolve is just for show.
All day long I was frantically looking for signs, proof that I would hear from the Aries again. I needed something — someone — to tell me that I wasn’t alone or that I wasn’t crazy, that he really loved me, that I was still on his mind, that I still mattered to him. I cried so hard this morning, that when it came time for my weekly meeting with the Ecliptic team, I said I wasn’t feeling well and would just have to block my face. And the crying felt good. It felt like I was purging myself of everything. And from that, I gained some clarity.
There were many things my love-drugged brain overlooked while I tried to deal with this sudden isolation.
I never really knew what was going on because the Aries never really communicated with me. Sure, we talked on the phone nearly everyday, but mostly he told me how much he missed me or wanted me, and how he couldn’t wait until we had our own place so that we didn’t have to have conversations over the phone. Then we’d talk about astrology or tarot; we never really talked about the real stuff, like, when or how we planned to move in together; what either of us would have to do to make that happen. Nor did we talk about his divorce. When I tried bringing it up, the Aries would just say that he was “working on speaking his truth;” I didn’t know what that meant. Now I do, and it makes me feel even more ashamed that I could’ve been so stupid, so naive to believe everything he told me. But that’s what happens when you fall in love with someone, you see the best in them. You want to believe that they are truthful and honest. And the Aries was truthful and honest… sometimes. And honestly, why wouldn’t he be so reticent to reveal the secrets of his life to me? Who was I? What did he owe me? How could he trust me?
He answered those questions with ardor: I was his girl, his parakīya, his Twin Flame, the soul he’s spent centuries with and finally found again. Of course he trusted me, he said, Twin Flames have to trust each other. As such, he owed me his love and support.
And though it shames me to admit it, those affirmations only made me fall harder for him.
But then there were those days where he didn’t reach out to me at all, and I felt overlooked and unimportant, and not at all like his Twin Flame. So I would reach out to him only to learn that he had been out hiking with his friends, discussing astrology and tarot; all the while I sat by the phone, worrying and waiting for a text from my “Twin Flame”… Sure, the Aries made me feel special on occasion, and sure, his velvety-smooth voice could calm me when I was in a tizzy about Coronavirus or about work, but the truth is, I tried harder than he did. I put much more effort into us and our future. I wrote him poems, bought him books, sent him information about his transits. I committed myself to the dreams we discussed. I set intentions New Moon after New Moon so that he and I could be together. And whenever he called, whenever he wanted to see me so that he could satisfy his selfish lust for my body, my kisses, I came running like the fool that I am.
There were rare times when I fell into a spell of self-pity and pomposity because I didn’t feel like a priority, and I would call him out, accuse him of not giving as much as me or doing as much as me, then immediately feel guilty for having done so because he sounded so hurt. Quickly, I would apologize and tell him I was a haughty, demanding, attention-whore; I would tell him he was the best thing that ever happened to me. And what did he do? He took my late-night apologies. He took my poems and kisses and words of affirmation; he took them all, all the while taking the same — if not more — from his wife.
But the thing is, I don’t want the Aries and I to get back to our usual routine, I really don’t. Sure, the warm and fuzzy feelings were nice, and it was nice to hear his velvety voice whispering that he loved me and cherished me and couldn’t wait to start our life together, but… those feelings aren’t strong enough to erase the feelings I feel now: used, betrayed, shameful. So I don’t want to go back to that. I don’t want to feel how I felt last night. I don’t want to be the girl on the side writing love poems and giving all of herself to someone who gives nothing in return. I don’t want to have to beg someone for their attention, or remind them that I’m someone worth knowing and loving. And sure as hell don’t want to feel like a secret, because I’m not a secret dammit! I am worth knowing and loving. I am worth someone’s full attention and love.
I don’t want to hate the Aries. And I don’t want to hear from him. I just want to move on.
*please note, COSMIC CHRONICLES is a fictional series; Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this series are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.