We all lose things as time goes on, whether it’s our dogs, our family fortunes, or, worst of all, a frozen yogurt shop punch-card when you’re only two away from a free cup. And often our memories of these things slowly fade from our minds, forgotten with time. But these horoscopes are about the other things we lose. The things that stick in your mind like old gum, leaving you forever wondering where they could have gotten off to.
Your tea parties used to be the talk of the town. Well-to-do socialites and various business executives would travel from miles all around to attend your gatherings. Over the years, attentions shifted, and the guests eventually dried up. Now you simply wander your garden, pouring tea into overflowing, unclaimed cups, wondering where everybody went.
You end your forbidden affair, and try your best to move on. Yet, as years go by, you can’t forget her, no matter how hard you try. You find yourself walking around her neighborhood, hoping to just catch a glimpse, but a glimpse is never enough. You live a life full of longing, and you never fully understand why, exactly, it was illegal for you to marry that mannequin.
Well, you’ve gone and lost your leg. There was no accident, nor an amputation. You’ve simply gone and misplaced the damn thing. It won’t be found beneath a couch cushion until after you’ve passed, uncovered by family members dividing your assets.
You’re not sure. One day, you wake up feeling as though something’s missing. Something that you’ve had for a very long time. There’s a void in you now that you’ve never felt before, but you can’t, for the life of you, figure out what’s missing. It’s not until your deathbed that you realize: it’s your old DVD of Fred Claus.
One night, you notice that the night is darker than usual. You look up, only to discover that the moon is gone. While the disappearance does make your life as a werewolf significantly easier, you can’t help but wish you still had something to howl at.
Your tiny, tiny husband. Did the cat snatch him up? Or is he simply stuck in the crevice between floorboards, somewhere within your sprawling estate? Your father always told you that you ought to have married a man at least twelve inches tall. Of course, you always were the rebel of the family.
Your moths! You can't find your precious moths! Who now shall cloak you in sheaths of beautiful, gentle silk? What children now will come to suckle at your teat, begging for sustenance as they drape their delicate threads across your shoulders? O, you wretched soul! “And who,” you cry to the heavens, “Who will weep for me, as I have wept for them, when I, too, am disappeared, like a whisper in the wind?”
The year is 2054 and the world has fallen to pieces. The climate is ravages, and where once stood forests now stands only pock-marked land. Yet what you desire more than anything, even clean air, is the simple pleasure of your weekly book club. And also showers. You’d like a shower, please.
After years of searching, you locate and slay the man who slew your father. You feel somewhat satisfied, and yet can’t help but wish it hadn’t been your brother.
Next Wednesday, you’ll misplace the key to the cage in your basement. Could the man inside have stolen it? “No,” you tell yourself. “I’ve made certain he knows how to behave.” And yet, you can never quite shake the suspicion. Fortunately, he expires within a fortnight, and the problem solves itself.
After a long and arduous journey, you finally locate a wise man on the peak of Aconcagua, who shares with you the secrets of the universe. It’s on your way back down that you begin to feel uneasy, and by the time you’re back home again, you wish you had your ignorance back ten times over. But you can’t go back now.
Nothing. You avoid feelings like the plague. Attachment? Never heard of her. One day you scuff a boot, though, and that kinda eats at you for an hour.