Dear Knight of Wands

Dear Knight of Wands,

I rebuffed you. I rejected you. You’re not my type, I said. You refused to take no for an answer. So you persisted. You pushed. There was just no stopping you – the man of double fire. The Knight who goes after the object of his desire – like a predator to a prey. You took one step forward and I took one step back. You were enamoured, by the thrill of the case. The only problem is – I’m not the type of woman who likes to be chased. 

I’m simpler. Quieter. I like a man who loves me in the quiet little things he does without being asked. Someone who finds pleasure in the mundane. A man full of substance – the kind of man I can lean on during life’s hardest days. 

But you – you’re full of that bravado that has no substance. Full of that exuberant confidence that comes from youth that hasn’t been tempered by experience. You’re just a kid that’s foolish enough to believe he’s a grown man. 

You knew I wouldn’t like you as you were. You knew you weren’t my type. So you put on a show and you pretended. You swept me away in possibilities. In grand promises. In the potential of things that could have been and never were. You saw my desires and pretended they were your own. 

You said you loved me, and I’m sure you thought you did. You claimed you cared. But oh Knight of Wands, you are still young – love is not easy. It is not a game. I know you. I know the likes of you. Sooner or later, you’ll move onto the next thing.

It is in your nature.

Why pretend? Why make promises you will not be able to keep? The heart is a fragile thing. It can be broken. I know your feelings are sincere, but since your element is fire – you always need something to burn. You foolishness can hurt both you, and those around you. And so the more you persisted, the more I resisted.

To you it was all just a game. 

“Young man,” I said, “you must temper that fire in your heart.”

“Don’t call me young,” you said angrily.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. You glared at me. I know, young one. I know. You don’t like to lose. But then again, who does?

“Your fearlessness is admirable,” I said. “But it doesn’t impress me. I find you annoying and irritating. And the more you chase me, the more I am put off by you. By your immaturity. By your recklessness. You are not a man. Not yet. You must learn to work hard to earn the respect of those around you. Your bravado will only take you so far.”

“You’ve hurt me,” you said.

“Not you. Only your pride and your ego.”

You finally let go. Of me. Of the thrill of the chase. You should have known better than to go after the water sign woman. For I am your opposite. It is only I, that can douse that fire in your heart without remorse. 

“Be gone foolish Knight,” I said, “and don’t you dare return till you become the King of Wands.” 

You said some nasty words to me as you got back on that horse. You thought you could burn me one last time before you left. 

I shook my head as I watched you gallop away.

What a kid. What a kid. 

Yours truly,

The Queen of Cups



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