Tales From The Star Queen
“Alright Mags, once and for all, what is up with the star obsession?”
I’m so glad you asked, though I’m not going to tell you. I have gotten this question in various forms so often and given so many different answers. There is one answer, one true answer, but that’s for me. It’s one of those gems that only I want to hold on to. I’ll give it away someday when it burns my chest asking for escape to go to another’s. I will tell you a little bit of my tales amongst the stars I’ve loved forever, just a little.
For those of you who have not encountered me in person, or haven’t paid close attention to me, you may not know that I love stars—no, like I really like them. Not in a trendy way that everyone is rocking nowadays (which I’m all about), but in a way that makes me feel at home when I see them.
The most obvious star on my person is the necklace I wear every day. I have had three of these necklaces, always replacing one after it breaks. I wear this not just because I love stars, but because Sam wore it in the Perks of Being a Wallflower. Sam, a character I resonated with in ways I never knew I would resonate with someone.
The science behind stars never really interested me. Science is like my thing, I literally write about it for a living, but when it comes to astronomy I felt like something that seemed so close to me was so far away. But, when I learned that everything on this planet is composed of atoms the same atoms that dead stars are made of, including people, it all made sense.
When it comes to astrology, I’m on the fence. The placement of the stars in the sky have to have something to do with our lives, but maybe not in the way that we think. More so, they are characters looking on with us as we go about life. Like distant relatives they’re there if we look up to them.
Finally, there’s just always been something about them that I’ve never been able to place. Some girls doodled hearts, I doodled stars. I’ve been late to parties, let my toes go numb, gotten a demerit at camp for getting back to my bunk late, and even forced other people to go outside with me; because I had to stop and look up at the stars.
On one of the first days of school I was disoriented by the darkness of Lake Forest. It was as if I was in the country, not an hour away from Chicago. The quiet depth of darkness made me uneasy as I walked back to my room alone. Until, I looked up. I saw stars the way I saw them when they first entered my life. The city lights were far enough away to give them a backdrop to shine. The same stars I saw at four years old sitting on my dad’s lap up in northern Wisconsin, were above me at 21 in Lake Forest.
Always look up.
