Alright, so you wanna know about Gemini men. Lemme tell ya, it’s been a journey. Not like a walk in the park, more like trying to read a book where the pages keep changing order. I decided a while back I was gonna really try and figure one out, just as a personal project, you know? Not because I’m an expert or anything, but because I was genuinely stumped and, frankly, a bit annoyed.

My “practice” started with this one guy. Let’s not use names, but he was classic Gemini, or so I thought. Super chatty one minute, then ghosting for days. He’d be all excited about some new idea, draw you in, and then next week, it was like that idea never existed. I’d find myself thinking, “What in the world is going on?” My first attempts to understand were just… bad. I’d get frustrated. I’d try to pin him down on plans, or feelings, or anything solid, really.
That was my first mistake. Trying to pin them down. It’s like trying to hold water. So, I changed tactics. I started to just watch, listen more, and talk less about what I expected. I made mental notes. Like, I noticed he wasn’t being malicious when he’d switch topics or seem inconsistent. His brain just seemed to work like a web browser with a hundred tabs open. He’d click on one, then another, then go back, then open a new one. It wasn’t personal, most of the time.
I spent a good few months on this “observation phase.” I’d see him get incredibly excited about learning something new. He’d dive in headfirst, talk about it non-stop. Then, once he felt he’d “gotten” it, he’d be on to the next shiny thing. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the last thing, it was just that his curiosity was a beast that always needed feeding. I realized that if I wanted to connect, I had to bring something new to the table sometimes, or at least be ready to jump topics with him.
Here’s a few things I jotted down in my mental notebook during this “practice”:
- They get bored. Super easily. Routine is like kryptonite to them, or at least to the one I was observing.
- Words are important. They love to talk, to debate, to share ideas. But they also use words to keep you at a distance if they feel overwhelmed.
- He really hated feeling trapped or defined. The moment he felt like he was being put in a box, he’d wriggle out.
So, my “detailed process” became less about “understanding” in a way that I could predict him, and more about “adapting” to the flow. I stopped taking the sudden shifts so personally. If he was distant, I just gave him space. If he was chatty, I’d engage. I learned to keep conversations light and interesting, but also not to be afraid to go deep if he initiated it – because sometimes, out of nowhere, he would.

The “final realization” for me, after all this, wasn’t some magic key. It was more like, okay, this is how this particular engine runs. It needs variety, it needs mental stimulation, and it needs freedom. If you can provide that, or at least not get in the way of it, things are a lot smoother. I stopped trying to make him fit a mold of what I thought a friend or whatever should be. Instead, I just appreciated the interesting, sometimes chaotic, energy he brought.
Honestly, it was a lot of trial and error. I messed up, got frustrated again, then went back to observing. It’s not about “cracking the code” because there isn’t one definitive code. It was more about learning their language, their rhythm. And yeah, sometimes that rhythm is all over the place. But once I stopped fighting it and just sort of… listened to the music, it made a lot more sense. Or at least, it was a lot less stressful for me. And that, I guess, was the whole point of my little experiment.