My lover is a Gemini. On a whim, he came to me one day. He picked me up, dusted me off, and said that he loved me. Truly, wholly, and without tiring. I believed his persuasion. I trusted the frailty of his words. He was such a puzzle, warm and alive one minute and deathly cold the next. I wrestled plain in his conflicting hands. I learned to listen to the butterflies in my belly. He moved so quickly, breezing into my life and without warning, rushing out of it. Nobody told me the butterflies were just on loan. He took them with him when he walked away, leaving nothing but a hollow of wasps inside me.
My lover is a Gemini but I wish he was a Leo. I want him to find the courage to see past my faults, to purify me in the fire of his love. To hold me when I am afraid. To be there in the morning when I wake up. I want to drown in his discourse, to bask in the light of his idealism and arrogance. I want to hear about his day, however trivial or mundane. I want him to be open to me, to be strong enough to tell me when I cross the line. But I'm just wishing on stars and a Leo, he is not.
I wish he was a Libra. I want him to be fair. Like a photograph that falls off the pages of a book, his memory finds me in the strangest places. How do you miss somebody who was never yours? How do you learn to forget hands that have never held you or lips you have never kissed? I want to weave my words around his heart, to find out what made him change his mind so quickly. I want him to be just to me. But I'm just wishing on stars and a Libra, he is not.
I wish he was a Cancer. I want to be there for his famous mood swings. I want to understand his vulnerability, to warm my hands on the embers of his temper. I want to have long, tedious conversations about the frost on the window pane or the politics of living in an ant farm. I want him to be jealous, to wear his heart out on his sleeve. I want him to shake me when my heart wanders, to kiss me deeply to remind me why we got together in the first place. I want his desire to consume him like a fever. But I'm just wishing on stars and a Cancer, he is not.
I wish he was a Capricorn. I want to fall asleep on his stable chest. I want to feel my head rising and falling as he breathes me in. I want him to be loyal, for his eyes to never stray far away from me. I want his love to be as vast as a net. I could leap from the highest highs with eyes closed, arms outstretched. If cats knew they would always land on their feet, would they still be afraid to jump? I want my lover to catch me when I fall. But I'm just wishing on stars and a Capricorn, he is not.
But above all these, I know there is one wish that I would kill to make – I wish that love was in our stars. Because I know it isn't. Because I know that you're gone. But that hasn't stopped me from searching for your face in every crowd. It hasn't stopped me from leaning on the frailty of your words, on the butterflies in my gut. And so with the courage of the lion,the fairness of the scales, the passion of the crab, and the stability of the goat, I search the night sky for a shooting star. When I see one, I swear to God I will get down on my knees, shout your name, and wish that your footsteps would one day lead you back to me. I wish you would come back to me. I wish we had different stars.
♫: Nicole Scherzinger | AmenJena (2011)
Photo: Stars Above Haleakala