What you’re still holding when you hold on to him
“Why can’t I let him go?” You’ve probably asked it a hundred ways. You know the reasons it’s over, or should be. You could list them. And still, a song, a street, a message that never comes, and he’s right back in the middle of you.
You were born with the Moon in Scorpio, so you don’t feel things halfway. When you let someone in, you let them all the way in, down to the place most people never see. Letting go of him would mean closing that place again, and some part of you would rather keep it open and aching than shut and quiet.
Watch what your mind does when the missing comes. It goes straight to him: what he’s doing, whether he thinks of you, what you could have said. Your mind says: “If I understand it, I can let it go.” So it keeps working, and the work keeps him close.
The Sun in Aquarius, the day you were born, gives you a clear, cool head, a part of you that can look at all this from a distance and see it plainly. That part already knows. The trouble is that knowing lives in the head, and the holding on lives lower down.
Could it be that it isn’t only him you’re holding? It may be the version of you that existed with him. The one who felt chosen, or alive, or finally seen. Letting him go would mean grieving her too, and that’s a much bigger feeling than missing a man.
If you want, close your eyes for a moment and let your hands rest palms down. Let your body be open. Feel the place where the missing sits, maybe the chest, maybe the throat, from the inside, with attention. You don’t need to push it away or make it smaller. If you want to stop, you stop.
There’s nothing wrong with you for still loving him. Love that went that deep doesn’t leave on a schedule. What you’re feeling is the size of what it meant.