You want to reach across the table and take, and you want to be the one chosen, hand held out toward you. Mars sits at one pole with the desire that advances, Venus at the opposite with the affection that waits to be invited. Lunge, and you suspect you just made yourself coarse. Hold still to be noticed, and the not-moving gnaws at you. So your love life runs hot scenes of bold pursuit and taut scenes of waiting, sometimes with the very same person in one week. Slowly the truth lands: you do not have to pick one mode and live there. Some moments are for going after. Some are for letting yourself be gone after. The pursuer and the awaited are both you.