Two chairs sit angled toward each other with a small table between them, and on the table a second cup of tea is going cool while the talk runs long. For you the Sun is set in the seventh house, the house of the partner and the mirror, the other person on the far side of the table, the agreement that takes two voices to make, and you tend to meet yourself in the reflection a chosen other hands back to you. You come into sharper focus across from someone. That someone is also, by turns, the rival, the contract, the friend you keep across decades. The bind is real: without the other you can feel only half drawn in, and with the wrong other you can feel half erased. So bring a whole self to the table rather than a hunger. Try not to date your own loneliness. The peer who can stand right next to your light without needing to dim it is rare, and worth the wait, and the truest first step is to grow that steady quality in yourself before you go looking for it across from you.