When we are unsure of the directions our lives should take, everyone in our spheres want to become compasses. No matter how different we are from one another, the fact that we belong to the same species suggests we should follow paths trodden by those who share our taxonomy. Perhaps, though, we are the ones who seek out compasses. We find it easier and less dangerous to let others blaze trails than to carve out our own. But danger finds us, no matter where we go. But when we make our own danger, the path back to safety is unsure.
This is not working. I do not know what I want or need to say; only that, whatever it is, it is not reachable. A dog can’t fix it. A friend can’t fix it. Only time has a chance of fixing it, and that’s only a slim chance.