You have a Leo venus. This is supposed to mean you want, more than anything, to feel special and loved. It is supposed to mean you ache for attention, in any form it may come. You’re supposed to aspire to be the sun, the most beautiful star, admired by the smaller ones who know exactly how perfect you are.
The first time I saw you, your dark skin and curly hair and darker eyes, I felt what I believe love is supposed to make you feel like. I felt beauty without the pain, sunshine without the burn. But I didn’t believe in love at first sight, so I let myself know you before I called it that. It didn’t take long. I fell in love with you, and I realized that what I thought it was supposed to feel like couldn’t have been more wrong. It was pain as much as it was beauty, and it burnt as much as it was sunshine.
I fell in love, and you adored every part of it. The turns I had to take to drop you off, the pictures I took when you weren’t looking, how I always read the books you loved, the hours I spent on the phone despite the fact I really had to study, how I always put your favorite song to play on the car radio without you having to ask. Every piece I tear off myself and give to you, you keep in a collection as if they are your most special belongings.
You don’t keep me around only for how much love I give you, I know. You care about me, and you have been here for many nights when I needed someone who wouldn’t leave; you have a Leo venus, which is supposed to mean you’re loyal. You are supposed to be a little bit egocentric, and you want to be the target of all the love there is, but you’re a good friend who never led me to think you could love me back when you clearly can’t.
I wish with all my heart that you loved me. I wish I could be a small star watching the sun shine forever; I wish I could get so close to you I would burn. I wish you could love me, but I understand that you can’t, and it’s okay. I want you to be my sun and my universe, but it’s okay that you don’t want me to be anything but a faraway star. And it hurts me deep in my soul. But it’s okay. You have no obligation of loving me, and I choose to love you despite knowing you don’t.
This is the part that isn’t okay: you have a leo venus, so you are supposed to want to be loved and cherished and feel special. But he doesn’t love you or cherish you or let you know how special you are. Last night, after two bottles of wine and an awkward dinner, I closed the door to your apartment and before I could take a step, I heard him screaming at you. He called you terrible things, and he made you smaller and smaller until I couldn’t even hear you crying anymore, until you shrunk to an inch and still had nowhere to hide.
All I wanted was to go back inside and put you in my pocket and run somewhere he wouldn’t find us, and that is not fair. It’s not fair because you are extraordinary in every possible way, and you are the Sun. Not a damsel in distress or someone who needs to be saved. You’re not shrunken to an inch, you are the Sun.
I know it’s not your fault. But it’s not fair to you. You’re beautiful and extraordinary and exquisite, you’re as close to perfect as they come, and it’s not fair that you want love so badly but still wants someone who doesn’t give it to you. I wish I would be the one you want all these things from, but it’s alright I am not. I just wish you would look for it in places where you would actually find it. You have a Leo venus, and you’re supposed to be the sun, but instead, he is burning you until you’re nothing but ashes, and with all I have in me I wish I could save you.
You have a Leo venus, and I don’t believe in astrology.