That wasn’t love—it was a Venus-Mars conjunction

There was a moment—brief but electric—when everything aligned. Eyes met, and it felt like gravity shifted. Venus and Mars must’ve been dancing then, because the chemistry was instant, magnetic. It wasn’t just attraction; it was pull. As if the universe tilted, just slightly, to bring you face to face.

But now, in the quiet after, you wonder what it really was. That force, so immediate and consuming—was it love, or was it the stars brushing past each other in a fleeting conjunction? Sometimes passion arrives like that: fast, loud, convincing. It wraps you in its heat and makes promises it can’t always keep.

Looking back, it’s hard to separate feeling from fate. Did we connect soul to soul, or did we just ride a cosmic wave, mistaking momentum for meaning? Venus brings beauty, desire. Mars brings drive, pursuit. Together, they spark fireworks. But fireworks, as beautiful as they are, burn out quickly.

It’s easy to believe in forever when you’re swept up in something that powerful. And maybe part of you still wants to. But another part knows—lasting love lives in the spaces after the blaze, in the steadiness that follows the storm. It’s not just about how brightly you begin, but whether you can build something after the flame settles.

This isn’t regret, not exactly. More a tender truth, hard-earned. That not every intense connection is meant to last. Some are simply meant to awaken, to remind, to reveal. To show you what your heart is capable of feeling, even if it’s not what it will ultimately choose to hold.

And so you carry it—a spark once felt, a lesson in disguise. The stars moved on. And now, so must you.