How can you understand and recover from a breakup/divorce?

Cancer, my deeply feeling and nurturing soul, love for you is not just an experience—it is the very essence of your being. You do not love halfway. You love with every fiber of your heart, every ounce of your soul, every dream and every hope you have ever held. When you fall in love, it is not a casual affair. It is a home you create, a place where your heart can rest, where you feel safe, where you pour in all the care and devotion that you so naturally give. Love is not just a relationship for you—it is a sanctuary, a foundation, a world you build with someone, piece by piece, memory by memory. And so, when that world crumbles, when love is lost, whether through a breakup or a divorce, it does not feel like just the end of a relationship. It feels like the end of everything you believed in, everything you gave yourself to, everything you trusted to be yours.

I know that right now, it hurts in ways that words cannot fully capture. I know that your heart feels raw, that every memory is like a wave crashing over you, pulling you deeper into grief, making it hard to breathe, to move, to understand how you are supposed to go on when the love you held so tightly has slipped through your fingers. I know that the emptiness feels unbearable, that the absence of their presence is deafening, that the silence where there used to be laughter, conversation, love, feels like a wound you cannot seem to heal. But Cancer, you will heal. This pain, as consuming as it is now, will not last forever. I promise you, this is not the end of your story. It is simply the end of one chapter, and though it may feel impossible to believe in right now, I swear to you, there is still so much love waiting for you.

Your instinct may be to retreat, to curl into yourself like the crab that represents your sign, to build walls around your heart so that no one can ever hurt you like this again. You are not someone who lets go easily. You hold on. You hold on to the memories, to the love, to the promise of what could have been. You play every moment over and over in your mind, wondering if there was something you could have done differently, if there was some way to fix it, some way to bring it back. And Cancer, I need you to know this—it is okay to grieve. It is okay to hold onto the love that was, to honor it, to allow yourself to feel every ache and every tear. But you must also remember that love should never be something you have to fight for alone. It should never be something that makes you feel like you are the only one holding the weight of it in your hands. Love is meant to be shared, to be nurtured by both people, to be something that lifts you rather than something that leaves you feeling like you are not enough.

I know that part of you wants answers. You want to understand why. Why did it happen this way? Why did love, something you believed in so fiercely, slip through your grasp? And Cancer, I wish I could give you all the answers you seek. I wish I could tell you exactly why things fell apart, exactly what the universe had planned, exactly what lessons you were meant to learn. But love, as beautiful and magical as it is, does not always come with clear answers. Sometimes, love ends not because it was not real, but because it was not meant to last forever. Sometimes, love comes into our lives to teach us, to shape us, to show us something about ourselves that we would not have seen otherwise. And sometimes, love leaves, not because you were not enough, not because you did something wrong, but because your journey was never meant to be tied to just one person.

Healing will not happen overnight, Cancer. You know this. You are someone who feels everything deeply, and that means that moving on will take time. There will be days when you wake up and the weight of the loss feels unbearable. There will be nights when the loneliness creeps in, when the memories feel too heavy, when the idea of loving again feels impossible. And in those moments, I want you to be kind to yourself. I want you to remember that healing is not linear, that it is okay to take your time, that you do not need to rush, that you do not need to pretend you are okay before you truly are.

But as you grieve, do not forget to take care of yourself. Do not let this heartbreak convince you that you are not worthy of love. Do not let it make you believe that you are unlovable, that you are too much, too emotional, too sensitive, too anything. You are not too much. You are exactly as you were meant to be—a soul who loves deeply, who cares fully, who gives in a way that few others can. And if this love was not strong enough to hold all that you are, then it was not the love that was meant to last. The right love, Cancer, will never ask you to shrink yourself. It will never make you feel like you have to prove your worth. It will meet you exactly where you are, with open arms, with understanding, with the kind of tenderness that you so freely give to others.

So, take this time to come back to yourself. Take this time to nurture your own heart the way you have always nurtured others. Surround yourself with the people who love you, who remind you of your strength, who hold you when you feel like you are breaking. Find comfort in the small things—the scent of the ocean, the warmth of a candlelit room, the embrace of a song that feels like it understands exactly what you are going through. Let yourself be held by the world, Cancer. Let yourself remember that love is not gone from your life. It still exists, in your friendships, in your family, in the way you show up for yourself every day, in the way your heart still beats despite the pain.

And one day, Cancer, love will find you again. Not because you need it, not because you are incomplete without it, but because love is meant for you. You were born to love, to feel, to create something deep and meaningful with another soul. And the next time love finds you, it will be different. It will not be love that makes you question, love that makes you wonder if you are enough, love that feels like it is slipping through your fingers. It will be steady. It will be safe. It will feel like home—not because you built it for someone else, but because this time, Cancer, you will have built it within yourself first.

For now, let yourself heal. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself move through this in your own time. And when you are ready—when the pain has softened, when the memories no longer sting, when you wake up and realize that your heart feels lighter—you will know that you have made it through. And when that day comes, Cancer, you will not just be healed. You will be transformed. You will be even more open, even more wise, even more ready for the love that is waiting for you. Because love is not over for you, my dear. It is only just beginning.