It gradually became
obvious to me that more was going on here than simple platonic
friendship. I was missing Jonny more, not less, the
longer he was away. When we saw each other we were much
more physically affectionate than before. And his chart
had some pretty interesting stuff going on as well: solar
arc Venus conjuncting natal Sun, progressed Moon getting ready
to oppose his natal Moon, and eclipses were hitting his first
and seventh houses. And his progressed Moon was moving
inexorably toward a conjunction with my dreaded Neptune.
Fearing the worst, I turned to our composite chart.
Our composite
north node was the same degree as my descendant, and it was
getting ready to receive a nice big solar eclipse hit; progressed
composite Venus was conjunct Mercury; the progressed composite
Moon was approaching a conjunction with the Sun. I consulted
a friend and fellow astrologer--what did she make of all this?
"I think you're gonna marry the guy," she replied.
Meanwhile, due
to loneliness and feelings of frustration with my astrology
business, I entered therapy (eclipse in the eighth house).
I had been shedding protective layers of fat in the course
of my life-or-death struggle with Saturn and I was feeling
exposed and vulnerable. On some level, I knew I was
getting ready for something really important, and I wanted
to be as emotionally healthy as possible. Then, the
day after New Year's 1993, with my progressed Moon conjuncting
the ruler of my descendant, my best friend and I became lovers.
My immediate reaction
was absolute terror. Here was a guy who, over the course
of thirteen months of intensive friendship, had proven himself
to be reliable, scrupulously honest, entertaining, intelligent,
morally responsible, and unfailingly interesting. What
was the catch? I mean, he's got a Taurus moon--he's
incredibly stable. What am I gonna do with a guy like
that? What does he want with me?
Compounding my
agony was our physical separation and the fact that we could
only see each other on weekends. In the end, though,
it really worked out for the best; both of us needed a little
breathing room, a little time to work out our feelings and
our fears. And what came out of this process was that
both of us realized with absolute certainty that we wanted
to be together the rest of our lives. So, in mid-February,
we got engaged.
There's a funny
little aside to this story. We were making an appointment
to see one of my astrologers (with a Gemini moon, naturally
I have two), and as he overheard me giving his data over the
phone, Jonny stopped me. "That's the wrong time zone."
For thirteen months, I had been using a chart for him that
was wrong by one full hour! Mortified, I recast the
chart: his corrected natal ascendant fell in my seventh house,
and his progressed ascendant was exactly conjunct the ruler
of my descendant.
The date my astrologer
chose for our wedding was May 30, 1993. In the wedding
chart, the Moon is conjunct Jupiter and approaches a trine
to the Sun; Venus and Mars make a wide trine to each other,
and each makes a favorable aspect to the Sun and Moon.
I chose 1:00 p.m. as the official starting time, with a view
to actually exchanging vows about 1:40. With the help
of our very understanding minister, we said our "I do's" at
exactly 1:42 p.m. Mercury is conjunct the Midheaven
and is the planet of latest degree, and it trines the Moon-Jupiter
conjunction. As my astrologer pointed out, a strong
Mercury in a marriage chart--good communication in the marriage--can
overcome a lot. It's a pretty nice chart, and we believe
we enjoyed our wedding more than anybody else there. >>
As I write this, Jonny and I have been married for almost
four months... >>
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