You know, for the longest time, I’d stare at those online compatibility charts. Virgo and Libra, right? You’d see a few stars, maybe some vague words about “potential for harmony” or “challenges with indecision.” But what’s the actual number? How high is their love, truly? I was always like, come on, give me a percentage! I wanted to know the real deal, not just some horoscope fluff. So, one day, I just decided, alright, I’m gonna figure this out myself. I’m gonna find that damn percentage.
My brain just wouldn’t let it go. I mean, everyone talks about zodiac signs and how they get along, but nobody ever puts a solid number on it for real love. It’s always a guess. So I thought, screw it, I’ll be the one to actually track it down. My own little experiment, you know? Not some fancy scientific thing, just me, with a notepad and a whole lot of observation.
I started by thinking about all the Virgo and Libra couples I knew. And trust me, I know a few. There was my cousin, a total Virgo, dating a very Libra guy. Then a couple of friends from way back, one a textbook Libra, the other a Virgo through and through. Even thought about some famous pairings I kinda followed, just for more data points, though obviously, that’s just surface-level stuff. The idea was to look at actual people, in actual relationships, and try to score their “love.” Crazy, I know, but I was committed.
My Highly Unscientific Method
First off, I had to define “love,” right? Not like, poetry love, but observable love. What makes a relationship tick? I started jotting down things I’d notice, like actual behaviors. I figured I’d assign points, totally subjective, of course. Things like:
- How they handled disagreements: Did they blow up, or talk it out calmly? Did one always give in, or did they find a middle ground?
- Laughter factor: How much genuine laughter did I witness? Were they always cracking jokes, or was it a bit more serious?
- Support system: When one of them was having a tough time, how did the other react? Did they step up, offer a shoulder, or just kinda shrug?
- Shared interests vs. personal space: Did they have stuff they loved doing together, or were they always off doing their own thing? And did they respect each other’s space?
- Small gestures: Little things, you know? Like one bringing the other coffee, or remembering tiny details.
- Overall vibe: This was the hardest one, just a gut feeling. Did they genuinely seem happy and connected, or was there an undercurrent of tension?
I got myself a cheap notebook, the kind with the flimsy paper, and just started recording. It felt a bit like being a spy, I won’t lie. I’d hang out with my cousin and her boyfriend, pretending to just chill, but my mind was clicking away. Noticed how he (the Libra) would always hold doors for her, even if she was right behind him. And she (the Virgo) would always, always remember to grab his favorite snack when she went to the store. Small things, but they add up.
Then there were my friends. One day, I saw them arguing about something really trivial, like what movie to watch. The Virgo friend got super analytical, listing pros and cons, which usually drives the Libra friend nuts. But this time, the Libra just listened, then offered a compromise that satisfied both. I gave them big points for that one. It wasn’t perfect, there were definitely some heated moments over the weeks, times when one would roll their eyes at the other, but they always circled back.
I kept a mental tally, then later that night, I’d scratch down notes in my notebook. “Cousin & BF: Door open +1, Snack +1, Minor tiff -0.5 (resolved quickly).” It wasn’t clean data, not by a long shot. It was messy, full of my own biases and interpretations. My friends would sometimes ask what I was scribbling, and I’d just say, “Oh, just some ideas for a story,” which wasn’t entirely a lie.
The Messy Reality and My “Percentage”
Trying to convert all these observations into a single percentage was a nightmare, honestly. How do you quantify a roll of the eyes against a shared belly laugh? It’s impossible to be truly objective. At first, I tried to make a scale, like 1 to 10 for each category, add them up, and then divide by a total possible score. But my scores shifted constantly depending on my mood that day or what I’d just witnessed.
The numbers I was getting were all over the place. Sometimes it felt like a solid 80%, other times it dipped to a shaky 65% after a particularly dramatic argument. I had moments where I almost threw the notebook away, thinking this was the dumbest idea ever. Love isn’t a math problem, right? You can’t just plug in variables and get an output.
But sticking with it, even with all the frustration, taught me something. The percentage itself became less important than the journey of actually looking closely. I wasn’t getting a definitive, universal percentage for all Virgo-Libra pairings. What I was getting was a snapshot of specific relationships, seen through my very own quirky lens.
After weeks of this, staring at my messy notes, I finally landed on… well, a subjective percentage for the couples I observed. For my cousin and her boyfriend, I’d peg them at a pretty solid 78%. My friends? Maybe a 72%, a bit more friction but a deeper bond in some ways. For the vague famous couples, I just threw up my hands, that was just guessing.
The biggest takeaway wasn’t a universal number, but the realization that it’s all about the effort, the willingness to understand, and the little daily choices people make. It isn’t about the stars, not really. It’s about two people doing the work. My percentage? It’s just my own rough approximation, a personal record of what I saw, not some grand declaration for all Virgos and Libras out there.
