What fits you is a person with a horizon problem — always one more country, one more question, one more version of themselves in progress. A Sagittarius match means being dragged somewhere new twice a year minimum, and finding, slightly annoyed, that you loved it. The honesty is as unfiltered as the itinerary.
The cost is pinning them down. Plans stay liquid, commitments get renegotiated with the calendar, and the blunt sentence arrives before the tactful one had a chance to dress. If you need the future in writing, this one signs in pencil.
What the match asks is that you hold the rope loosely. Chase alongside rather than fencing them in, laugh at the bluntness instead of bleeding from it, and you get the rarest travel companion: one who keeps becoming someone new without leaving.