You know, people always ask me about dating, especially when it comes to those dreamy, artistic types. And, truth be told, my mind always goes back to this one guy, a Pisces through and through. Everyone wants to know, “Are they loyal?” And for a long time, I didn’t have a straight answer. It took me a solid few years, and a whole lot of head-scratching, to really get a grip on it.
I met him at a little coffee shop, one of those artsy places downtown, you know the kind. He was just sitting there, sketching in a notebook, completely lost in his own world. I walked in, ordered my usual, and when I looked over, he looked up, gave me this shy, gentle smile, and that was that. I was hooked. Right then and there. He had this incredible way of listening, really, truly listening, making you feel like you were the only person in the room. He’d remember little things I’d said weeks ago, bring them up, and I just thought, “Wow, this is it. This guy gets me.” I felt completely seen, understood, like nobody ever had before.
We started spending all our time together. He’d write me these sweet, sometimes a bit flowery, notes, leave them under my door. He’d show up at my work with my favorite coffee, just because he knew I’d be swamped. He’d talk about a future, about us, about all these amazing dreams we could chase together. I mean, he painted a picture, and it was beautiful. I felt totally wrapped up in this gentle, empathetic world he seemed to carry around with him.
The Twists and Turns
But then, slowly, things started to… shift. It wasn’t anything big at first, just little things that started to niggle at the back of my mind. I’d call, and he wouldn’t answer for hours. He’d apologize later, say he just “lost track of time” or was “deep in thought” about some new art project. Okay, fine, I get that. Artists, right? Creative types. I cut him a lot of slack because he was so sweet and apologetic when he was around, and that charming side would just make you forget everything else.
Then came the disappearing acts. Not for days, usually, but like, for a whole evening. He’d just… be gone. No text, no call, nothing. And then, he’d reappear, sometimes the next morning, full of apologies, talking about how he just needed space, or he was helping a friend out with some big emotional crisis, or he got caught up in some deep conversation with a stranger. And he’d look at me with those big, soulful eyes, and I’d melt. I wanted to believe him. I really, really did, every single time.
This went on for a while. We’d be really close, intensely connected, everything just perfect, and then he’d pull away, create this distance that felt like a million miles. It was like living on a seesaw, constantly going up and down. One day, I was his universe; the next, I was just a star in his very, very big galaxy of thoughts and feelings. I started to question myself. Was I being too clingy? Was I misunderstanding him? Was I asking too much?
It all came to a head when I ran into him, completely by chance, at a different coffee shop on the other side of town. He was with someone else. And he was doing the exact same thing he did with me: that intense listening, that gentle smile, that leaning in like the world around them didn’t exist. My stomach dropped to my feet. It was a punch to the gut, I tell you. I couldn’t even breathe properly.
He saw me. His eyes got wide with surprise and a kind of fear. He mumbled an introduction, something vague about “a friend.” The woman smiled politely, completely oblivious, totally caught up in whatever he was saying. I just turned on my heel and walked out. I couldn’t even fake it. I just left, my heart pounding like a drum, tears pricking at my eyes.
What I Figured Out
Later that night, he called, he texted non-stop, he even showed up at my door. He was a mess. Crying, apologizing, saying he didn’t mean to hurt me, that he cared about me deeply, that he felt things for me. And I knew he did, in his own way. That was the crazy part. He wasn’t a malicious guy. He truly felt things, deeply, genuinely. For everyone.
That’s when it hit me, like a ton of bricks. Loyalty with a Pisces man, at least from my experience, isn’t about exclusive dedication to one person in the way most of us understand it. It’s more about being loyal to their feelings, to their emotions, to the connection they feel in the moment. If they feel a strong connection with someone, they lean into it. They give their all to that feeling. And if another strong feeling, another strong connection, comes along, they can get swept away by that too. It’s like their emotions are these powerful tides, and they just go where the current takes them.
It’s not necessarily about intentionally betraying you. It’s more like they’re constantly being pulled by these emotional tides, always seeking empathy and connection. They’re super sensitive, incredibly empathetic, and they often want to please everyone, or at least avoid hurting anyone directly. So, instead of making a hard choice, they might just float between different connections, giving bits of themselves to each, convinced they’re not doing anything truly wrong because their feelings are real in each instance. It’s an honest-to-god feeling for them, even if it’s confusing for everyone else.
It was a tough lesson to learn, trust me. I spent so much time feeling confused, feeling like I wasn’t enough, feeling lied to. But once I understood how he was loyal – loyal to his own boundless emotional landscape – it made a weird kind of sense. It wasn’t the loyalty I wanted, not the kind that builds a solid, exclusive partnership. It was a loyalty to the moment, a loyalty to a feeling, a loyalty that could encompass many people at once without him necessarily seeing it as a contradiction.
So, is a Pisces man loyal in love? My answer, based on living through it, is that they are loyal to feelings, loyal to connections, but not always, and often not exclusively, loyal to one person. It’s a different kind of loyalty, a fluid, ever-changing one. And you’ve gotta decide if that’s the kind of loyalty you can build your life on.
