There are levels of being there for someone. I’m fortunate enough to have an army of supporters, and each level is weighed down with people in numbers sometimes too high to count. It’s the only logical explanation for the physical change visible in me now. It’s why I can sleep most nights. These people stood watch along the tunnel I’ve been climbing out of the past several years.                                        

For most of my life I’ve known how loved I am, to the degree a person can comprehend such a feeling. I’ve also stubbornly refused help in difficult times. I turn inward. I shut down. I look up at the sky and down at my feet. This is where my obsession with directions and compasses originates. I have little patience for falling stars, because they’re leaving. I understand that scientifically they’re not really giving up, but I’m not wasting any wishes on a star that’s bailing.                                                                                                    

Some people try to force me to open up so I leave them. Most wait patiently until I show them what I need.                                                                                                     

Those with hero complexes compete. They want to be the one to save me. They haven’t figured out I don’t need a hero. Adapting to change isn’t all that hard anymore. Changing myself still is. Everything is clearer now—everything feels safer now—because of the passage of time and the kindness of my people. And although every single human matters, it’s difficult to get close when you realize we’re all so temporary. People leave. They get sick or they die, in the most tragic of circumstances.                                                       

It honestly terrifies me even more to think of the ones who choose to leave.                                                         

It’s taken a long time, but I started to feel calmer, to feel more like myself again, when I knew I had a North Star. I have a close family, a best friend, other friends I hope to deserve, soulmates, and a Person. But there among this crowd of supporters all waiting with weapons of love and kindness and willingness, off to the side--saying absolutely nothing--there stands a North Star. We say plenty, but sometimes we don’t need to. He doesn’t have to stand in any lines or wait patiently for his turn. I finally stopped believing in falling stars.

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North is always North and it gives me peace.  

Stephanie Jensen