Your hand
Your heart line starts high, under the index finger, and it is long. For you, loving is not a light gesture: it is a whole, almost solemn commitment. It splits into three small branches at its end — the sign of someone who gives a great deal, sometimes before being asked.
Your head line separates clearly from it and runs straight, without diving. You think clearly. You are not one to get lost in daydreams: when you decide, you decide. What blocks you is not a lack of lucidity, it's the fear of hurting someone.
Your life line is deep and well drawn, with a clean break around your thirtieth year, followed by a second line that starts again further inside the palm. It is not a rupture: it is a change of direction you have already begun to live.
Your mount of Venus is full, your mount of Jupiter pronounced. You have energy and you have ambition — but for years you have spent them holding up a balance that no longer feeds you.