From the Archives: congratulations, you're dying
From the Archives: congratulations, you're dying
I mean everyone is slowly, and sure, it feels worse when you're hurting, but congratulations: you're still alive. (or: more meditations on loneliness and endings)
Hi friends,
As always: Until Virgo season starts, I’m re-sending some of my favourite essays from the past. A warning: These essays have minimal editing. Many situations no longer apply. I hope you are all doing well! Enjoy!
This week’s essay is a grief series (specifically towards break-ups) I wrote back in 2022, and still resonates today.
the sweetest thing someone ever did for me during a break-up was congratulate me.
my most poignant endings inspired loved ones to celebrate my freedom. one terrible relationship ended in silence. to counter the sting, my friends coaxed me into drinking our troubles away with $6 frozen margaritas. an uninspired situation with an even more emotionally unavailable medical student where the condom broke led to a lot of desperate prayers when my period came late. that too, was celebrated the next morning over breakfast with my brother, when the red soldiers came marching through overnight. when we left san francisco for brooklyn, my spouse and i commiserated but came to terms with the loss of our former city, and welcomed our new one with our late pup.
in a way, endings are celebrations even when they don’t feel like it.
they usher in a new era, whether micro or macro, and help others become a different person at the end of it. i think that’s worth causing a commotion.
as a joke, i decided to make a list of all the people i’ve hooked up with (and a separate one for those i dated) to discern their zodiacal placements through limited knowledge. the only one i haven’t clocked on both (again, this is not accurate at all— just what my poor memory recalls, and based on intuitive guessing) lists is a taurus. maybe it’s because we’re both two different sides of the same venusian coin. it was odd cataloguing the relationships that failed before my spouse and seeing how far I’ve come. and how much further i need to go in my failings and trappings.
i mourn those past versions of me who didn’t know what was coming. versions of me who stayed loyal past an expiration date, and ones who decided to pick up and walk away. this is why endings should be celebrated. the beauty of what comes after loss inevitably outshines (but this doesn’t mean we forget) the negative.
it would be best if i used my scientist brain to analyse this data, but considering it’s not particularly scientific in the first place: i won’t. it is fascinating data for my private eyes and usage— but it’s not that deep. (says the libra sun against their anchored scorpio placements) but, as someone who has sucked and fucked my way through seemingly the entire zodiac… there’s no real trend.
what i did notice while sifting through the list was this feeling of nostalgia, at a distance. i no longer vilify the people who broke my heart, but i don’t romanticise what we had either. i don’t have anything bad to say about the people i loved with ferocity because there must have been a reason. they just weren’t the right fit. but you know, nothing hurts as much as pain does when it is fresh. it sucks because you sit there, bleeding out of these metaphorical wounds, knowing that there is nothing but time that can heal. over the years, i’ve learned that the concept of closure comes from within. it feels even shittier with the knowledge that you’ve hurt someone else due to your selfishness. but isn’t that what relationships are all about? a constant calibration and balancing (haha, okay libra sun, we get it, you want to be seen) act between at least two individual entities?
the discomfort of being alone, and being okay with that is disquieting, especially when your brain tends to catastrophise. after years of therapy and unlearning, i think i’ve quelled the fear of my fiancé leaving me, but it’s also because i’ve become stronger in my sense of self, and the things i want. i ask for the things i want, and i try my damn hardest to compromise when the other person asks for their needs. i’m a work in progress, but it’s safe to say i’m better than where i was before.
as a self-professed introvert, i enjoy solitude. i love recharging by myself, and when i half-heartedly make plans with my friends (sorry, y’all, i love you) and they end up having to cancel— i secretly thank my lucky stars. (for my friends reading this: i love you, and i love hanging out with you. please don’t cancel our plans— i genuinely enjoy them, but sometimes my body just fucking fails me. you understand me, no?) i do think there’s a sense of avoidance that comes with having to see people, especially when i’m not in the right mindset. i’m learning to surrender that and welcome others when i feel vulnerable. by allowing myself to be who i am— warts and all— around others who have committed to being a pillar of comfort in my life.
those are my issues to resolve and talk out with my therapist, but don’t you feel like that sometimes? it’s hard to rely on people when culture and society dictate otherwise. so there’s a dichotomy i’m learning to sit with: this innate craving for solitude nestled against the fear of feeling abandoned. anyone who holds libra and scorpio placements can probably relate to these instincts of teetering towards one extreme, neglecting to realise that balance or compromise is an option.
like i’ve said before, even to the best of our abilities: things end. nothing stays the same, we’re shedding parts of ourselves and regenerating. it’s challenging to maintain consistency in friendships. in a post-university haze, the advent of the internet and the abundance of apps and ways to stay connected make relationships easier to maintain. so i’ve had some practice, but still need to brush up my skillset.
the immense slog of living under Saturnian reign for the last couple of years, angling for just one more where He is my time lord. (i’m aware this won’t make sense to anyone unfamiliar with hellenistic astrology but you’re here.) His lessons, while helpful, also ushered in some of the most painful experiences of my adult life. i’m not unrecognisable after my Saturn return, but i am stronger, wiser, and better equipped to say no.
i often joke that i’m malefic incarnate or that i’m a fallen talisman. it’s often in jest. when it comes to myself: i can joke and make fun of myself as much as i want. it’s funny because Saturn’s loneliness stems from His demeanour: cold and dry. i love the Saturnians in my life. they may not be the warmest upon first blush, but they are some of the fucking funniest people i’ve ever met. Saturn and His children make me laugh.
my Saturnian praise aside, the reason i’m mentioning it is because sometimes debilitated Saturn placements don’t understand how to resource themselves. they have difficulty saying no, or perhaps delineating boundaries. therefore, they’re zapped of their natural resources. their baser instincts. on the other hand, dignified Saturn placements (like my own,) might be too good at saying no. no is a Saturnian’s favourite word.
self-isolation for prolonged periods can be cruel and traumatic. hell, we just dealt with a couple of years of mass trauma due to a global pandemic. my mentor amaya, often says that we cannot and should not exist in isolation. physical barriers be damned— this whole thing has made me realise that i also need to make my emotional barriers a bit more permeable. our communities and ecosystems cannot survive without support from each other. they thrive when we are enthusiastic and buy into helping the collective.
so yes, we might be dying slowly.
but we have each other to at least weather the journey as we get to our endings.
Thank you, as always, for reading Is This What You Want?
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