I was drinking alone at Bremen, as I often did.

She approached me.
We started talking and never stopped.

I clutched the same drink for 3 hours,
too engaged in conversation.

She told me much about herself. I dug it.

She went to UWM for a degree in Microbiology.
She uses Linux.
She takes apart electronics.
She’s into NES, Zelda, and Pokémon.

She does stand-up and knows Guy Brown.
In fact, she told me the comedy circuit calls her
the “New Guy Brown”.

She told me she was recently roofied in Chicago.

She lives in Bayview and works in her field.

We shared so much.

By bar close, I tried to get her to come home with me, as young men do. She was much wiser than I and politely refused the offer.
Nonetheless, we made out.

She said we shall meet again.

I told her I wonder what I did to deserve such a perfect encounter.

She told me I was just looking at her with drunk goggles.

Two days later,
after gathering my closest consorts,
we met her again at Art Bar.

She was standoffish!

I waited patiently at a table in the back of the bar with my friends.

Eventually,
she came over and sat beside me.
She talked to Mike and Jessie about Bayview things.

She told me she had a poor experience tonight.
That she could not engage her audience.
I told her these things happen.

We talked for some time.
She could not understand when I called her an artist.
She did not think her craft an art.

Having previously read her birth chart,
I noticed her Lion’s Pride was deeply bruised.

I tried to show her that I was her equal
and made use of my limited scientific knowledge.
She noted that I was obviously
trying to impress her.

It was then that she turned face.
She became the Dungeon Master
and conducted a series of tests
to gauge my will.

Though my will was strong
and my intent, mostly noble,
my drunken heart
trapped me in the labyrinth.
As always.

She told me she once loved a man
and that they should have been wed,
had she kept him.

This correlated with what her birth chart
had betrayed.
That she was apprehensive to formalize bonds.

She panicked when,
I thought nothing of it.
She told me,
she had had a rough life,
that she had to be
an Adult,
at an early age.
She said,
she was abused by men.

To her,
I tried to reassure
of my sincere position
and that
judgements need not
be applied.

She let her will die,
and realized
she need not topple me.

“I just laid a bomb on you. I have to go.”

I tried, well enough,
to have her stay,
but there is no
commanding of a Leo
of her caliber.

I asked
at the very least
if I could walk her
to her car.

She asked
why am I
so fixated
on keeping her?

I told her,
I was just
a love-sick dog
who doesn’t like
to let
opportunity
pass me by.

I tried an alternative approach to ease her tension.
She told me she doesn’t like to be pressured.
I backed off.
I cannot be with her if it is I who imposes will.
I asked if I would see her again.
She lied and said yes.
Then we kissed, but the spark was dead.
I could tell she was just pitying me.

She started her car and drove out of my life.
I walked home alone in gloom.

No matter what I could have said or done,
I could not convey my true heart.

When we were still at the bar, she was bummed about her set.
Aiden did the most miraculous thing.
Appearing out of nowhere,
he congratulated her on her set.

A week has gone by,
I have digested my thoughts.

Yes, she was smart,
and pretty,
and dignified,
and honorable,
but
I don’t think that
a Leo like that
and a Capricorn like me
would ever have gotten on.
I am the manager, and she is the commander.

We both exhausted our efforts
trying to twist each other
to our wills.

She was cunning of mind.
She saw right through
my boyish facade
and to the old Devil inside.
She saw my millennium.
She had her own.

I think she would be better suited
with a more reasonable
and responsible
partner.

Oh, but she would be a great Caleh.

I would think there would be
much prestige in
taming a lion.

But she would not be.
She has places to be that I cannot follow.
Our paths intersected but briefly.

I am just a slave to Saturn’s cycles
of lessons
which I continually fail
wrought self-destruction.

I am a prisoner
locked away
in my own thoughts.

No one can save me but myself.

Besides,
she finds no value in
the interaction of
the stars and heavenly bodies
and all that correlates.
She is scientific.

She thought my Crux was stupid.

That was it. Ghosted after that.

Who will be my harmony?
A love hath promised me.

Maybe I am destined to sorrow.
Come again, nothing tomorrow.

If I were to stay here longer,
my dismay grows ever stronger.

Always and ever,
the Universe is clever
in fooling me.