So I bumped into this Virgo 2021 love horoscope meme last Tuesday while scrolling through some nonsense. Honestly? Looked like the same old crap—talkin’ ’bout communication and patience, blah blah. Figured it was just fluffy horoscope junk again. But man, my dating life was drier than stale bread at the time, so I thought screw it, let’s test this garbage for laughs.
Here’s the mess I actually did:
First thing, I dug up that full Virgo love forecast PDF everyone kept sharing in groups. Printed it out—felt kinda stupid, honestly. Instead of skimming like usual, I grabbed a highlighter like some grade-A nerd. Yellow streaks everywhere on stuff like “speak your needs calmly” and “plan low-pressure dates.” Felt like studying for a test I didn’t wanna take.
Decided I’d try JUST the communication tip. My style? More like a lazy dog texting “hey” at 11 PM. So last Thursday, I sat my ass down and wrote out what I actually wanted dating-wise. Not vague crap like “find love.” Nah. Real stuff like “someone who laughs at my garbage jokes” and “doesn’t ghost after three dates.”
Then came the awkward part: talking. Met Sarah for coffee—we’d been stuck in “vague chat” limbo for weeks. Instead of my usual nervous babbling? Slowed down. Said straight-up: “Honestly, I wanna actually plan stuff beyond coffee.” She blinked… then laughed. “Thank god,” she said. “Thought you weren’t interested.” Boom. The horoscope fluff wasn’t wasted.
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Things that didn’t totally suck:
- That “be patient” nonsense? Didn’t mean waiting like a statue. I put reminders on my phone to chill out after sending risky texts instead of spiraling.
- The “plan” garbage? Translated to: made a stupid cheat sheet in Notes app about what to ask people besides “how’s work?” Actually used it.
- “Being too critical?” Yeah, guilty. Started forcing myself to text back “Haha nice” instead of critiquing someone’s bad pizza choices right away.
Biggest shocker? It worked without magic. Ended up scheduling two proper dates with Sarah just by saying dumb true things. Saved money too—no psychic fees, just forcing myself to try stuff written on crumpled paper next to my coffee machine.
