They ghosted? Mercury went rogue

Silence, sudden and absolute. One moment, the rhythm of connection. The next, nothing. No goodbye, no explanation. Just absence. It feels personal, like a rejection wrapped in quiet. But could it also be timing? Cosmic interference? Mercury retrograde, ever the celestial trickster, turns smooth communication into static. The line goes dead, and you’re left holding the last message, unanswered.

You replay the conversation. Were there signs? A pause too long, a word misunderstood? Under Mercury’s backward spin, even simple exchanges twist. Meaning slips. Intentions blur. Someone reads hesitation where there was only thoughtfulness. Someone else vanishes because it feels easier than clarifying a doubt they can’t quite name.

And then, there’s the past. Mercury in retrograde loves a good rerun. Old names reappear, past emotions reignite. Sometimes it’s nostalgia, sometimes a karmic loop. But often, it pulls attention away from the new. A fresh connection, just beginning to bloom, quietly wilts as energy shifts backward.

It’s easy to blame the stars. Easier than admitting the fear of vulnerability, or the weight of indecision. Ghosting, though, is rarely clean. It leaves questions trailing like smoke. Not just “what happened?” but “was I not worth the truth?”

Mercury doesn’t cause the vanishing. But its fog makes escape routes more tempting. A text unsent. A reply left for later, then forgotten. A hesitation that becomes silence.

Still, the ache of being ghosted remains human. Celestial conditions might complicate the path, but it’s our own discomfort that seals lips and closes doors. A small kindness—a farewell, a few honest words—can feel like starlight in the dark. Rare. Simple. Illuminating. But in this digital age, and under Mercury’s shadow, that light too often fades before it ever reaches us.