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I read my horoscope everyday to see if this is that special day when the stars have aligned and I am going to find true love. Somehow, the celestial bodies are always in disagreement. I check to see what signs are compatible with Pisces and then ignore the advice. 

Sometimes the stars are right, or at least the people who put together what they think they learned from the stars are right. Of course, the other two million Pisces reading this same prediction are thinking that the same thing.

We often use celestial terms to describe love– I’m moonstruck. We are star-crossed lovers.

I’ve been moonstruck many times, if you go by the Miriam-Webster dictionary definition -   “silly, foolish, or crazy especially because you are in love” The definition goes further:

“Affected by or as if by the moon: as 

a: mentally unbalanced 

b: romantically sentimental 

c: lost in fantasy or reverie”

Love turns us into lunatics at times. Or is that really love? Maybe that is just lust or chemistry. Maybe true love is boring and stable and it’s just sitting together eating dinner or watching TV. God, I hope not.

I love to read about star-crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet or Tristan and Isolde. Those situations always end badly, usually with someone dying.  

Some of the greatest love stories and the less than great romantic comedies wouldn’t exist if we didn’t explore this theme, but when it happens in real life, it’s miserable.

Gustav's Klimt's The Kiss

We’ve romanticized love to the point where we all want that fairy tale ending. Those of us who are divorced know there is often a tragic, or at least a depressing ending.

We start our marriage dressed in white and full of light and hope, but then it implodes. Maybe your husband proposed to you by riding up on a white horse dressed as a knight in shining armor. Your family and friends watched as he dismounted and got down on one knee to propose. A few years later, he is just shoveling the stuff that came out of the other end of his white steed.

The great sculptor, Michelangelo was also a poet. He wrote a poem called Celestial Love  and it’s believed it was meant for the poet Vittoria Colonna. Michelangelo has been described by some scholars as misogynist, and his work as homoerotic. Either way, while he was painting heavenly scenes on the Sistine Chapel or carving beauty from cold marble, he wouldn’t have made good husband material.

I know. I’m one of those women who has always been attracted to men in the arts. I’ve dated musicians and artists and lived with a writer. Not to generalize, but they usually aren’t great partners. The more successful they become and as they become “stars” the less likely it is that a relationship will work. You know that by reading any tabloid while waiting in line at the grocery store.

Waiting for the stars to align and send you that perfect person doesn't work. You may find your perfect mate in cyberspace, but you can’t wait for that celestial magic to occur, you have to make it happen.

Maybe somewhere in the stars there is a secret. It could be true that all love is formed in the heavens and that God or a supreme being has your soulmate picked out for you. If it’s true, then the almighty is having as much success matchmaking as the people on those reality shows.

I keep thinking that it’s just going to happen. One day, I’ll be walking aimlessly down the street and smack right into my soulmate. 

I’m not a fan of that insipid ‘80s band Air Supply, but maybe it will be just like the lyrics of one of their songs – “All I see are the stars in your eyes. First you hear the angels sing and then you see the wedding ring.”

More likely, I’ll be seeing stars because I’ll probably end up falling flat on my face or doing something else stupid because I am so clumsy, but not cute movie type clumsy. Or maybe I’ll use feminine wilesto get a man, only to find out he isn’t the one, again.

Is there really only one match for each of us?

Walking along the beach looking at that other celestial body sink into the horizon with a blast of color- that’s romantic. So is sitting under a full moon, or lying in the grass looking at the stars. But do you really need a partner to appreciate that beauty? I live beside a lake and I can watch the sunset anytime I want. 

It would be nice to have a man there beside me, but my eyes are taking in the beauty of that moment and that's enoughfor me right now. That’s what I tell people, and I just have to make myself believe it. 

There is a childhood rhythm that I say to myself when I look up at the sky -

I see the moon, the moon sees me

The moon sees somebody I want to see

So, God bless the moon and God bless me

And God bless the 'somebody' I want to see

When I’m in my backyard gazing up at the moon, my problems and my flaws become infinitesimal. Maybe the man in the moon is my constant, or maybe the “somebody” I want to see is still hidden in the shadows.   

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