Libra
Up goes the rocket. Its golden grain falls, fertilising, upon the rich soil of my imagination.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Your body has been sending you the same message for weeks, but acknowledging it would mean admitting that something you have been maintaining is not sustainable. The signal is not dramatic enough to force action and not quiet enough to ignore completely, so it lives in that middle space where you can feel it without having to decide what it means. You have become expert at the daily negotiation with discomfort, the small accommodations that keep everything else in place. But the cost of staying in this arrangement is that the signal grows more specific each day, and eventually even the most careful balance tips toward a choice you can no longer postpone.