urban_twilight: (No Comment)
( Nov. 28th, 2008 07:41 pm)
In the midst of sorting out the crazy randomness that is my life, I've been messing around with a few theories about my non-existence.

Of course, I'm sure this is linked in some way to my horse, who, at the moment, does not seem to be getting here any time soon. I miss him. Soooooooo much.

It makes me feel even worse that I was actually glad to be rid of him when I first moved away, glad to not have any obligations for once. But now it's like I want him back for that very reason.

Don't get me wrong. I love Khas, but I was really starting to be reluctant to spend time with him for the last 6 months of the school year. I was furious with myself of course, but I how can I justify that traitorous feeling I would get whenever it rained, or was too cold to go out? Khas has become, despite the number of times I swore he wouldn't, a burden. It reminded me of a time, oh, say 5 years ago, when I still lived in Winnipeg. My friend Danielle, who was about 3 years older than me, said that one day I would become tired of horses. That I would stop loving them.

Being the the sweet, sensible 11 year-old that I was, it isn't surprising that I laughed in her face at the suggestion. Me, stop loving horses? Blasphemy! Inconceivable! Impossible! I couldn't even consider the thought.

The difference with me now is that, even though my love of horses is still the same, it's a possibility...now... that sometime in the future, I might just quit horses all together. And the thought is unbearably sad.

Secretly, I think that the main reason why I was so vehemently opposed to selling Khas was because I was afraid that, without the obligation and responsibility of owning my own horse, I would eventually quit. I keep asking myself, Is that really fair? To both of you? It just seems so selfish to me. Why put Khas through all the stress of bringing him down here, of having to adapt to whole new life - just because I'm too scared to let him go? It's not like I want to quit riding, but the possibility of it scares me. So I want to hold on to the one thing that will guarantee that it will never happen.

I can feel the old depression creeping back up on me again. The old feeling of not going anywhere. It's like those nightmares, when you know that you're running fast, so fast, faster than you've ever run before, but you never get to wherever your going. And then you realize that you're not moving at all.

I need something to get me moving again. I need a purpose. I need my horse.



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