You fell for a projection. Rahu says, “You’re welcome.”

You didn’t fall for them. You fell for the shape they took. A shadow stitched from your own longing. Something in them echoed something missing in you. You called it connection. But it was only recognition. Recognition of your own ache.

Rahu was watching. It doesn’t deal in truth. It offers dreams, masks, smoke. It gives you what you crave, not what you need’. It makes the illusion look holy. The fantasy feels real. You chase it blindly. You swear it’s fate. But Rahu never shows the full picture.

You wanted closeness. But you got obsession. You wanted love. But it came laced with fear. You stayed for the rush. For the ache. For the idea of who they could become. You ignored the silence. You ignored your own intuition. You kept chasing the mirror.

They weren’t the one. They were the wound. The echo. The pattern dressed in new skin. You told yourself it was karmic. That it meant something deep. But the depth came from your own hunger. Not theirs. You kept projecting your story onto someone who never asked to carry it.

Rahu doesn’t want peace. It wants chaos that teaches. The love it brings is not soft. It unravels. It shakes your faith in yourself. It holds up a mirror to your attachments. It shows how far you’ll bend to avoid abandonment. It tests how much pain you’ll swallow for a taste of meaning.

When it ends, and it always ends, you grieve the dream. You grieve who you thought they were. But mostly, you grieve the version of you that needed them. The one who didn’t feel whole on their own. The one who mistook ache for affection. Fire for feeling. Longing for love.

This is the heartbreak Rahu leaves behind. Not a broken heart. A broken mirror. The image is gone. You’re left with the truth. The quiet. The empty space where fantasy lived. And now, you begin again. With clearer eyes. With heavier silence. With softer steps.

You stop chasing the feeling. You stop needing the story. You learn that not all connection is sacred. That some souls don’t stay. That some love isn’t meant to last. And that’s okay. You don’t need it to last to learn. Rahu came to teach. Not to give.

Eventually, the ache softens. The lesson settles. You forgive yourself. For not seeing clearly. For needing too much. For staying too long. You don’t need to hate them. They were never the villain. Just the vessel. Just the mirror. Just the moment.

And now, the mirror is gone. What’s left is you. And that’s enough.