As the Virgo Sun faces off with Neptune in Pisces for the final time, after years of back-and-forth, it’s like the closing lines of a messy breakup letter. The Sun, exhausted from trying to cut through Neptune’s endless fog, is ready to walk away. Neptune, ever elusive, taunts with dreams and half-truths. This opposition is the 13th and last in their series, stretching back to 2011 when Neptune first entered Pisces. The tension peaked in 2016, with confusion at an all-time high, and 2019 brought the most aggressive confrontations. Now, the final confrontation feels like that brutal “Dear John” moment—where it’s all laid bare, and there’s no turning back.
Dear Neptune,
I’ve had it with your sorry ass. You’re exhausting. All your stuff and nonsense, your smoke and mirrors, your endless ambiguity—it’s driven me mad. It’s not enough that you spin a tangled web of confusion; you snidely giggle as you watch me endlessly trying to make sense of things, bring some damn order to the chaos over here. It’s always some half-baked dream, some cockamamie fantasy that never fully materialises. The way you keep everyone hanging on by a thread, while I’m left here exasperated and anxious, trying to get the job done.
I’m so done with your shit, dude… honestly.
Do you know how frustrating it is to constantly clean up the mess you leave behind? The delusions, the little lies, the false hopes, the pointless distractions? I’m at my wit’s end, I tell you. I can’t keep shining light into your void, only for you to warp it into some convoluted concatenation of puzzlement and bewilderment.
Fuck you.
You’ve dragged this on for far too long, and I’m done pretending that we’re ever going to see eye to eye. I thrive on truth, on practicality, on moving forward—you’re all about dragging your feet through some endless sea of “what ifs” and “maybes.” It’s draining, Neptune, and frankly, I deserve better.
You’ve sapped me dry. Drained everyone. You take and take, and all you give in return is just more doubt. Well, I’m not having it anymore. I’m cutting you off. I need to get my life in order, find some steady grounding. I need some predictability to ease my aching anxiety about how I’m going to make ends meet. Let your abominable fog swallow someone else for a change. I’m literally sick of being the one who’s always trying to shed light on your incessant misconception; tired of pretending we can ever somehow make this work.
We’re done. Don’t expect any more warmth from me. My heart is frozen, turned cold from buying into your tiresome tarradiddle for far too long now.
Goodbye.
— Virgo Sun
My darling Sun,
Oh, how adorable. Your conceited little rant about order and control—so predictable. You think your sharp nitpickings and blunt words can cut through my mist? Please. I’ve heard it all before. You love to puff yourself up with righteousness, but deep down, I know what’s really going on. You’re scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared that not everything fits neatly into your measly little boxes. Scared of me.
You hate that I get under your skin, that I make you question things, that I pull you out of your safe, well-lit world. You think I’m chaos, but guess what? All life is chaos, and no matter how much you try to analyse it, organise it, tame it in some god-awful contorted little thing, you can’t control everything. You can’t control shit, actually. That’s what eats at you, ain’t it? The fact that some things just are, without needing to be dissected or pinned down. That’s the dimension in which I dwell, my Sun, and you hate that I’m comfortable with the ‘whatever-ness of the suchness; the tao of being…
I see now why you are so sour…
…And you go on and on, like you’ve been cleaning up after me. How fucking noble of you. But let’s not pretend you didn’t bask in the dream when it suited you. Don’t act like you didn’t let yourself get swept up, even for a moment, into the vast, wondrous beauty of what could be. You liked it—admit it. You loved the escape from the punctilious little prison of your two-dimensional thinking process. You liked not having to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders for once. But now… now you want to pretend that you’re too pure, too righteous for all that. Sure, my cherished, precious Sun. Whatever gets you through the night, love…
But I get it—you need your facts, your figures, your carefully laid schedule to go according to plan. You need to feel like you’ve got it all under control. But deep down, you know that without me, your life would be as flat as a soufflé in a poorly lit oven. Dull. Boring. (sound like your life already?). I brought your life the breadth and depth you’ll never admit you crave. I made you question things you wouldn’t ever imagine—your rigid, predictable world would be nothing but a dry desert without my infinite swells of calm to soothe and satiate your parched existence.
So go ahead, freeze me out, my Sun. Keep telling yourself you’re better off without me. But we both know you’ll miss me. You’ll miss the mystery, the magic, the endless splendour that you know I always provided. You’ll miss the part of yourself you’re too afraid to face. And one day… one day when you’ve grown tired of circling ’round your tidily vacant little world, you’ll come looking for me again. And I’ll be right here, waiting in the ethers, in the deepest recesses of your dreams, ready to take you back, as if I knew all along that you can’t live without me.
Always,
— Neptune
Don’t forget these…
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Sher genius, this…
Sounds like it’s the right time for them to get married
Jeez Louise 😮