That wasn’t love. That was Mars in Leo

It burned hot. The passion. Mars in Leo, always bold. Gestures grand, sweeping, captivating. Every move felt like a declaration. Words like an anthem, so strong. But beneath the flames, something lingered. A quiet truth, hard to ignore. It wasn’t all about you. Mars in Leo needs the spotlight. It craves recognition, admiration, praise. Not just love, but validation. The grand gestures, for show. The love—was it truly there? Was it for connection, or applause? The performance felt like a show. You, merely an admirer.

There was hunger beneath it. The quest for adoration, constant. Did you feel truly met? Or just a reflection, shining? Mars in Leo doesn’t share. It demands devotion, attention, space. But doesn’t give it back. How much room did you have? Independence felt like a quiet ache. A need to breathe, to be. Mars in Leo suffocates at times. It never lets both stand tall. The drama took up the space. Where was the real connection? What did you need from them? Did they hear you, or just their voice?

When the performance ended, what stayed? The applause, now fading. Not love, but a hollow echo. A search for admiration, unending. That fire burned bright, then faded. It didn’t warm. Only scorched. But the need remained, always. A fire, but not one to last.