Man, I never thought I’d be writing about something this goofy, but here we are. It’s funny how something you do just to kill five minutes can actually end up kicking your butt into a whole new life path. My daily grind always starts the same way. I wake up, stumble to the coffee maker, and while that thing is dripping, I grab my phone.
I don’t look at news or emails first. My absolute dumbest habit? I hit up the same website and punch in my sign. Virgo. Specifically, I always check the “Love Horoscope.” Not because I believe in it, but because the titles are always such clickbait. Yesterday’s was just another one: My Daily Love Horoscope Virgo (What Is Changing Now?)
I swear, that question just stared at me while the coffee was brewing. What Is Changing Now? Nothing, I thought. Absolutely zero things are changing. I’m stuck. I’ve been doing the same job, seeing the same few people, eating the same awful microwave meals for months. But then I read the actual text. It wasn’t about meeting someone new, which is the usual trash. This time, it hammered on about a “forgotten commitment” and needing to “revisit a door slammed shut” to unlock the next phase.
I rolled my eyes. A door slammed shut. Fine. I had plenty of those. But one specific door just popped into my head immediately, and I felt this weird, hot guilt wash over me. It was about Alex.
The Door I Slammed Shut
Alex and I were roommates way back, like five years ago, before everything went sideways. We weren’t romantic, but he was family, you know? The kind of friend you plan your whole life with. We were supposed to start this little side gig, a stupid app idea, and we were hyped about it. We had the plans, the name, even a crummy logo drawn on a napkin.
Then his girlfriend got involved. She thought the idea was garbage and filled his head with a ton of nonsense. He started pulling back. I pushed. He pushed back harder. It was a stupid, week-long fight over maybe five hundred bucks and who owned the napkin. It ended with me yelling some truly awful things on a Tuesday night and then blocking him—I mean, blocking him on everything. Phone, text, all social media, the whole shebang. That was it.
For five years, I just lived with that silence. Every time his name popped up in a mutual friend’s post, I’d scroll past so fast I’d almost drop the phone. I let that stupid, childish fight become this massive, unspoken wall in my life. I convinced myself I was right, he was an idiot, and I didn’t need that drama. But honestly? Losing him left a hole.
The Practice of Hitting Send
So, the horoscope is yelling about forgotten commitments and slammed doors. The coffee is ready. I’m standing there, and my hand is shaking a little, but I decide to actually practice what this ridiculous digital prophecy is pushing me toward. This is the change, right? Not waiting for something to happen, but making it happen.
I had no idea how to contact him. I had burned every bridge. I started digging. My old email account, the one I haven’t logged into since 2019. I finally remembered the password after five tries.
- Step One: Locating the Relic. I found an old group chat with a mutual friend still in it. The friend’s number was the first thing on the list.
- Step Two: The Awkward Request. I sent the friend a text—no context, no apology, just the most vanilla request for Alex’s current email address. It took an hour, but the friend sent it. No questions asked. Bless their soul.
- Step Three: The Message. I sat down and typed out the stupidest email of my life. I didn’t bring up the app, the money, or the fight. I just wrote: “Hey, it’s me. I saw something today that made me think of the old times. Look, I was a total jerk. I miss having you around. No need to reply, just wanted to say it.” I read it seven times. My finger hovered over the ‘Send’ button for a full thirty seconds. I took a deep breath and sent it.
What Actually Changed Now
I expected nothing. Maybe a reply in a week, maybe a reply telling me to get lost, but mostly nothing. I went to work feeling sick but also weirdly light. That evening, as I was walking back from the store, my phone buzzed. It was an email. From Alex.
It turns out, Alex’s life had also hit a huge wall. That girlfriend was long gone. He’d lost his job during the layoffs last year. And guess what? He’d been sitting on a new version of that stupid app idea we had, but he was too anxious to start it alone. He wrote back instantly, saying he also regretted how it went down and was happy I reached out.
That initial message, the one sent purely because a random, cheesy horoscope made me feel guilty enough to act, has totally spun my life around. We met up two days later. It was awkward for about thirty seconds, and then it was like five years hadn’t even happened. We’re now actively coding that app. It’s real this time. We’re meeting twice a week at the library, building something totally new.
The horoscope didn’t tell me the future. It didn’t predict that Alex and I would become partners again. It just gave me the push I needed to break my own routine and fix the oldest, dumbest mistake I was actively ignoring. What is changing now? Me. I’m done waiting for the universe to do the work. I had to finally un-slam that door myself.
