Q: Out of the blue, my boyfriend of two years broke up with me. Not long afterward, I saw pix on Facebook of him with some other girl. It’s been two months since our breakup, and he wants to reconcile, so whatever he got into obviously tanked. We were planning on moving in together in the spring. (Maybe he got cold feet?) I still love him, but I’m worried. Did he just break up with me to be with this girl? How do I know this won’t happen again?—Fighting Uncertainty

A: We crave certainty, and we get freaked out by uncertainty. If we weren’t like this, there would be no horror movies, because somebody would say, “Whoa … I hear this weird, unearthly growling in the basement,” and their friend would say, “Yeah, whatever” and keep playing chess, and the monster would cry itself to sleep off camera.

Interestingly, there are some lessons for dealing with potential romantic horror from actual horror fare. Evolutionary researcher Mathias Clasen, author of Why Horror Seduces, believes that one reason we appreciate horror movies is that they allow us to have an intense scary experience under safe circumstances—basically acting as a sort of mental training to help us protect ourselves in dire situations. For example, from a list of horror movie survival tips at the website Slasher Mania: “As a general rule, don’t solve puzzles that open portals to Hell.”

Because horror movies are “evolutionarily novel”—meaning that they didn’t exist in the ancestral environment that shaped the psychology still driving us today—our brains tend to respond to fictional slasher/zombie/demon stuff as if it were real. So, upon entering a tall building, I occasionally flash on a helpful life lesson I picked up from The Shining: If the elevator opens and a flood of blood comes out, take the stairs.

Research by Clasen and his colleagues (presented at a 2017 academic conference I attended, but not yet published) appears to give preliminary support to his horror-movies-as-life-prep hypothesis. There is also published research showing benefits from what I’d call “preparative worrying.” For example, social psychologist Kate Sweeny found that law students who worried more about taking their bar exam felt much better about their results—whether they passed or tanked the thing—compared with those who didn’t fret or didn’t fret much.

Sweeny notes that findings from her research and others’ support two benefits of worry. Worry amps up motivation—spotlighting “the importance of taking action” to head off some undesirable outcome. Worry also leads people “to engage in proactive coping efforts”—providing an emotional airbag should things go badly.

As for your situation, sadly, Apple and Amazon have been remiss in giving Siri and Alexa a crystal ball feature, so there’s no way to know for sure whether this guy would just end up bouncing again. But there is a helpful way to “worry” about a possible future with him, and it’s to do it like a scientist, estimating “probabilities”—what seems likely to happen based on prior experience and information.

To do that, ask yourself some questions: Is he generally a person who feels an obligation to be careful with other people’s feelings? How in touch is he with his own? Is he easily bored and does he have a big lust for novelty and excitement (called being “high in sensation-seeking” by psychologists)?

Next, factor in your own temperament—how emotionally fragile or resilient you are. Practically speaking, the question to ask yourself is: “If he left again, how crushing would that be for me?” However, in answering that, it’s important to get specific about the actual worst-case scenario; for example: “I’d spend four months deforesting the Pacific Northwest by binge-weeping into Kleenex.” This might be a price you’re willing to pay for a shot at being with the man you love, especially if you hate trees.

Ultimately, as psychologist Gerd Gigerenzer, who studies decision-making, writes: “Understand that there is no certainty and no zero-risk, but only risks that are more or less acceptable.” If you conclude that you can accept the potential downsides of trying again with him, consider that his aborted jaunt off into Otherwomanland may have been a good thing. Sometimes it takes a wrong turn to point us in the right direction. Or, putting that another way, perhaps through your boyfriend’s going for what he thought he wanted, he figured out what he really wants.

To avoid being resentful over this little detour of his, maybe use the experience as a reminder to appreciate what you have as long as you have it. As we’ve seen, there are no guarantees in life—not even that the government has safeguards on the missile strike warning system stronger than your grandma’s AOL password. (Hi, Hawaii—glad you’re still with us!)

Please note: This column appears only in our online version of the paper this week.

Often the mirror of Black Mirror (Netflix) reflects old episodes of The Twilight Zone, of which the show’s creator Charlie Brooker is something of a “rejiggerer.” The fourth season opener “USS Callister” stars Jesse Plemons—“Todd” in Breaking Bad, he’s a Golem-version of Matt Damon. The opener is a reflection of the famous 1961 Zone episode “It’s A Good Life,” in which a group of people are trapped at the hands of an angry, childish God. Plemons is a solipsistic game designer who worships old-school TV space adventure; he entraps a woman who turns out to be smart enough to find a way out of his game. Frightening, yes, but it’s often as hilarious a take on old-school Star Trek as Galaxy Quest.

Nothing funny at all about the Jodie Foster-directed “Arkangel,” evocatively shot in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, on the verge of yet another long winter. The remarkably fierce actress Rosemarie DeWitt is a single mother overcome with fears for her child’s safety. Thus, she hooks up a nanny camera … from inside her daughter’s skull. David Slade’s “Metalhead” has the subject of rogue robots cleaning up the last bits of humanity on earth. It’s done in a crystalline black and white, with a bare minimum of dialogue; it’s a knockout tale of terror.

And if Brooker begins with The Twilight Zone, he finishes with an emulation of Zone creator Rod Serling’s 1970s program Night Gallery. In “Black Museum,” a lone woman visits a deserted roadside attraction where three particularly distressing exhibits are explained to her by the chatty maniac who runs the place, Dr. Rolo Haynes (Douglas Hodge).

Writer Philip K. Dick anticipated so many of these pregnant ideas, and yet a man can only be so many years ahead of his time—as the extensive rewriting of his stories would suggest in Philip K. Dick’s Electric Dreams (Amazon Prime). This anthology plays catch-up, as Black Mirror runs off with ideas that the speculative fiction author Dick hatched decades ago.

Emily St. John Mandel’s dystopian masterpiece Station Eleven takes place after a fictional swine flu wipes out more than 99 percent of the world population within a few short days. Besides the bubonic plague, which killed at least 25 million people, the closest we’ve come to such a virulent pandemic was the 1918 “Spanish Flu,” which infected one-third of the global population and killed some 50 million people before mysteriously fizzling out by 1919.

“They actually have copies of the 1918 flu,” says Dawn Motyka, M.D., of the Ask Doctor Dawn podcast. Virus samples were extracted from the lung tissue of an Alaskan influenza victim who’d been fully preserved by permafrost since November of that year. “And so we’re really trying to figure out what it is that made that strain so rapidly lethal.”

While 1918 was pre-vaccination and pre-antibiotics (“If you got pneumonia, you were toast,” says Motyka), the yearly flu epidemic remains a serious public health matter 100 years later. One thing we now know about the flu is that it is continually evolving.

“The flu has a segmented genome, so that means it can redistribute itself quite quickly,” Motyka says. “It’s basically cutting and pasting its DNA constantly.” The two major antigen markers (hyaluronidase and neuraminidase, which the N and the H stand for in the flu virus labels) exist on the surface of the influenza virus, and their function is to break down cell walls so that their genetic material can be injected into the oblivious, warm-bodied host.

“And you have, essentially, a pattern of staying the same for a couple of years, and then shifting a little, and then shifting a little more, and then every once in a while you’ll have a jump, and that’s called a major antigenic shift,” Motyka says. When this happens, people have little immune protection against the new virus. A major antigenic shift occurred in 2009, when an N1H1 flu virus emerged with a new set of genes, and killed between 123,000 and 203,000 people globally. Similar to 1918’s pandemic, an unusually strong majority of deaths occurred in people younger than 65—between 62 and 85 percent.

“That could have been a major problem. It wasn’t, we dodged that bullet, but we had to do an extra vaccine that year, because it was unexpected,” says Motyka. “What Mexico did, in my opinion, that was really heroic was they closed the airports in the first 48 hours. So by doing that they prevented the more aggressive virus from getting out.”

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates that since 2010, the flu has killed between 12,000 and 56,000 people annually in the U.S. While it’s still too early to tell what exactly the current flu season will look like, trivalent vaccines (which include H1N1, H3N2 and B/Victoria) and quadrivalent vaccines (which includes the addition of the B/Yamagata strain) are estimated to be about 40 percent effective. More importantly, says Motyka, they will lessen the duration, severity, and period of contagiousness.

It’s not just the under-2 and over-65-year-old portion of the population who should be getting the flu shot, says Motyka. It’s also important for anyone with any form of lung disease, as well as smokers.

“Because the pneumonia that people get after the flu is what kills them,” Motyka says. When influenza infects the lungs, it damages their immune system for a couple weeks, opening them up to post-influenza pneumonia by staphylococcus bacteria, which is a particularly nasty bug that doesn’t usually get there, she says.

“If you get that kind of pneumonia it has about a 50 percent chance of killing you,” says Motyka. “Even if you get hospitalized, and you get the appropriate treatment, if you’re over 65 and get post-flu pneumonia, it’s really aggressive.”

In the case of any sort of super flu, the N95 face mask can effectively filter out the flu virus. “Everyone should keep one in their car,” Motyka says, “and in flu season, don’t be afraid to pull it out and put it on.”

ARIES (March 21-April 19): Many American women did not have the right to vote until August 18, 1920. On that day, the Tennessee General Assembly became the 36th state legislature to approve the Nineteenth Amendment, thus sealing the legal requirements to change the U.S. Constitution and ensure women’s suffrage. The ballot in Tennessee was close. At the last minute, 24-year-old legislator Harry T. Burn changed his mind from no to yes, thanks to a letter from his mother, who asked him to “be a good boy” and vote in favor. I suspect that in the coming weeks, Aries, you will be in a pivotal position not unlike Burn’s. Your decision could affect more people than you know. Be a good boy or good girl.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): In the coming weeks, destiny will be calling you and calling you and calling you, inviting you to answer its summons. If you do indeed answer, it will provide you with clear instructions about what you will need to do to expedite your ass in the direction of the future. If on the other hand you refuse to listen to destiny’s call, or hear it and refuse to respond, then destiny will take a different tack. It won’t provide any instructions, but will simply yank your ass in the direction of the future.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Looks like the Season of a Thousand and One Emotions hasn’t drained and frazzled you. Yes, there may be a pool of tears next to your bed. Your altar might be filled with heaps of ashes, marking your burnt offerings. But you have somehow managed to extract a host of useful lessons from your tests and trials. You have surprised yourself with the resilience and resourcefulness you’ve been able to summon. And so the energy you’ve gained through these gritty triumphs is well worth the price you’ve had to pay.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Every relationship is unique. The way you connect with another person—whether it’s through friendship, romance, family or collaborative projects—should be free to find the distinctive identity that best suits its special chemistry. Therefore, it’s a mistake to compare any of your alliances to some supposedly perfect ideal. Luckily, you’re in an astrological period when you have extra savvy about cultivating unique models of togetherness. So I recommend that you devote the coming weeks to deepening and refining your most important bonds.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): During recent weeks, your main tasks have centered around themes often associated with strain and struggle: Repair, workaround, reassessment, jury-rigging, adjustment, compromise. Amazingly, Leo, you have kept your suffering to a minimum as you have smartly done your hard work. In some cases you have even thrived. Congratulations on being so industrious and steadfast! Beginning soon, you will glide into a smoother stage of your cycle. Be alert for the inviting signs. Don’t assume that you’ve got to keep grunting and grinding.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Norwegian artist Edvard Munch (1863-1944) created four versions of his iconic artwork The Scream. Each depicts a person who seems terribly upset, holding his head in his hands and opening his mouth wide as if unleashing a loud shriek. In 2012, one of these images of despair was sold for almost $120 million. The money went to the son of a man who had been Munch’s friend and patron. Can you think of a way that you and yours might also be able to extract value or get benefits from a negative emotion or a difficult experience? The coming weeks will be a favorable time to do just that.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): “I think I like my brain best in a bar fight with my heart,” says poet Clementine von Radics. While I appreciate that perspective, I advise you to do the opposite in the coming weeks. This will be a phase of your astrological cycle when you should definitely support your heart over your brain in bar fights, wrestling matches, shadow-boxing contests, tugs of war, battles of wits and messy arguments. Here’s one of the most important reasons why I say this: Your brain would be inclined to keep the conflict going until one party or the other suffers ignominious defeat, whereas your heart is much more likely to work toward a win-win conclusion.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): When he was 24 years old, Scorpio-born Zhu Yuanzhang (1328-1398) was a novice monk with little money who had just learned to read and write. He had spent years as a wandering beggar. By the time he was 40 years old, he was the emperor of China and founder of the Ming Dynasty, which ruled for 276 years. What happened in between? That’s a long story. Zhu’s adventurousness was a key asset, and so was his ability as an audacious and crafty tactician. His masterful devotion to detailed practical matters was also indispensable. If you are ever in your life going to begin an ascent even remotely comparable to Zhu’s, Scorpio, it will be in the coming 10 months. Being brave and enterprising won’t be enough. You must be disciplined and dogged, as well.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): In 1892, the influential Atlantic Monthly magazine criticized Sagittarian poet Emily Dickinson, saying that she “possessed an extremely unconventional and grotesque fancy.” It dismissed her poetry as incoherent, and declared that an “eccentric, dreamy, half-educated recluse” like her “cannot with impunity set at defiance the laws of gravitation and grammar.” This dire diss turned out to be laughably wrong. Dickinson is now regarded as one of the most original American poets. I offer this story up as a pep talk for you, Sagittarius. In the coming months, I suspect that you’ll be reinventing yourself. You’ll be researching new approaches to living your life. In the course of these experiments, others may see you as being in the grip of unconventional or grotesque fantasy. They may consider you dreamy and eccentric. I hope that you won’t allow their misunderstandings to interfere with your playful yet serious work.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Bubble gum is more elastic and less sticky than regular chewing gum. That’s why you can blow bubbles with it. A Capricorn accountant named Walter Diemer invented it in 1928 while working for the Fleer Chewing Gum Company. At the time he finally perfected the recipe, the only food dye he had on hand was pink. His early batches were all that color, and a tradition was born. That’s why even today, most bubble gum is pink. I suspect that a similar theme may unfold soon in your life. The conditions present at the beginning of a new project may deeply imprint the future evolution of the project. So try to make sure those are conditions you like!

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): “When one door closes, another opens,” said inventor Alexander Graham Bell. “But we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened.” Heed his advice, Aquarius. Take the time you need to mourn the lost opportunity. But don’t take MORE than the time you need. The replacement or alternative to what’s gone will show up sooner than you think.

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Gilbert Stuart painted the most famous portrait of America’s first president, George Washington. It’s the image on the U.S. one-dollar bill. And yet Stuart never finished the masterpiece. Begun in 1796, it was still a work-in-progress when Stuart died in 1828. Leonardo da Vinci had a similar type of success. His incomplete painting The Virgin and Child with St. Anne hangs in the Louvre in Paris, and his unfinished The Adoration of the Magi has been in Florence’s Uffizi Gallery since 1670. I propose that Stuart and da Vinci serve as your role models in the coming weeks. Maybe it’s not merely OK if a certain project of yours remains unfinished; maybe that’s actually the preferred outcome.

Homework: Report your favorite graffiti from a bathroom wall. Go to Freewillastrology.com and click on “Email Rob.”

Q: I got dumped four months ago, and I’m still not sure what happened. All of my boyfriend’s explanations seemed vague, and the breakup really came out of nowhere. I don’t want to contact him. How do I sort this out so I can move on?—Desperately Seeking Closure

A: Science has yet to figure out a number of life’s mysteries—questions like, “What came before the big bang?” “Why is there more matter than antimatter?” and “If we’re so advanced, what’s with short-sleeved leather jackets?”

Freak breakups—unexpected, inexplicable endings to relationships—are really tough because our minds don’t do well with unfinished business. It ends up bugging us to get “closure”—and by “bugging,” I mean like some maniacal game show host in hell, shouting at us for all eternity, “Answer the question! Answer the question!”

This psychological spin cycle we go into is called “the Zeigarnik effect,” after Russian psychologist and psychiatrist Bluma Zeigarnik. In the 1920s, Zeigarnik observed that waiters at a busy Vienna restaurant were pretty remarkable at remembering food orders they had taken but had yet to deliver. However, once they’d brought the food to the patrons, they had little memory of what the orders were.

Zeigarnik’s research (and subsequent modern research) suggests that the mind remains in a “state of tension” until we complete whatever we’ve left incomplete—finishing the task we’ve started or finally answering some nagging question.

This might seem like bad news for you, considering the mystery you’ve got on your hands. However, you can make use of psychologist Daniel Kahneman’s research. He explains that our brains are “expensive” to run; basically, it takes a ton of energy to keep the lights on up there. So our mind is programmed to take mental shortcuts whenever it can—believing stuff that has even a veneer of plausibility.

As for how this plays out, essentially, your mind assumes that you’re smart—that you don’t believe things for no reason. The upshot of this for you is that you can probably just decide on a story—your best guess for why your now-ex-boyfriend bolted—and write yourself an ending that gets you off the mental hamster wheel.

Should those old intrusive thoughts drop by for a visit, review the ending you’ve written, and then distract yourself until they go away—like by reciting the ABCs backwards.

Q: I’m a woman in my early 40s, married for 12 years. I gave up my career as a dancer to be a mom. I can afford not to work, as my husband makes great money. However, my kids are now 12 and 13 and don’t need me like they did when they were little. I feel as if I don’t have any purpose in my life, and it’s getting me down. I can’t go back to dancing now. What do I do?—At Loose Ends

A: Sure, your kids still need you, but mainly to drive them places.

In fact, in these modern times, it can feel like much of your job as a mother could be done by a stern-voiced Uber driver. This is a problem. As social psychologist Todd Kashdan explains, “Years of research on the psychology of well-being have demonstrated that often human beings are happiest when they are engaged in” activities that bring meaning to their lives.

As I explain in Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck, living meaningfully means being bigger than just yourself. It means making a difference—making the world a better place because you were here. You do that by, for example, easing people’s suffering—and you don’t have to be a hospice nurse to do that. You can do as my wonderfully cranky Venice neighbor @MrsAbbotKinney does as an adult literacy volunteer—teach people how to read. I always get a little misty-eyed when I see her tweets about taking one of the people she’s tutored to apply for their first library card.

Because doing kind acts for others appears to boost general life satisfaction, doing volunteer work should lead you to feel more fulfilled. This is especially important in a world where daily hardships involve things like struggling to remember your new PIN to get milk delivered from the online supermarket—as opposed to trekking through a snowstorm to the freezing-cold barn.