Whatever We Love Most

Leaving Home... Forever

I tossed my backpack over my shoulders, locking the door behind me. I knew I should have put on sunscreen, but I didn't see the point. I walked across the yard to the garage, where I turned my bike around and led it out.

I had left my halter at VRH, wanting a chance to go back later. And this was my chance. I knew Miranda was taking Rosy with her to PEI, which was a relief for me. It also meant she'd still be there when I got there. 

I kicked my bike into movement and coasted down the driveway, stones crunching under my tires. I turned off my street and onto a busier one. As I reached the first intersection, I wondered briefly if I still knew how to get there. But four years of riding had engraved the route into my brain, and I turned right, coasting down the road. Toward Rosy. Toward home. This would be my last bike ride there. 

I had planned to bike there all summer, stopping for ice cream on Fridays. I was looking forward to a summer of camps, laughing and riding, painting the horses, obstacle courses. But that was never going to happen.

So I sighed and allowed my bike to take me down the hill, for the last time.

--

When I reached VRH, tears immediately pricked my eyes. But not sad ones, not yet. Angry ones. Angry because someone had already changed the sign. 

Horse Play, it read. Opening July 12th.

I almost screamed. Gone. It was gone. My world was already gone.

I locked my bike up against one of the fences, something I had never done before because of the curious horses filling the fields, ready to chew on anything they saw, including bike locks. But now there were only two I could see. Rosy and Pogo. And they weren't about to murder each other, which made tears fill my eyes again, sad this time. Everything was changing.

My sneakers barely made a sound as I walked down the aisle toward Rosy's stall. A tear slipped free. At this time last year, the aisle would have been lit up by the fading lights on the ceiling, filled with the volunteers laughing and horses eating. Gone. All of it was gone.

I pulled my halter off the hook and slid it into my backpack. And then I left the barn as quickly as I came. 

I almost unlocked my bike, but Rosy looked up and me, and my heart broke a bit. Before I could think better of it, I had slipped through the fence, and was jogging toward my mare. As I reached her, she looked up and me and nickered, and that was it, I was crying and hugging her, telling her I'd miss her.

She had grown more of a forelock, and her coat had become more reddish. I realized this would be the last time I saw her, and pulled out my borrowed phone to snap a couple pictures. I also took a picture of the sign. I knew Callie would want to know about this.

Rosy went back to eating her grass, and I leaned against her, closing my eyes, crying, for I don't know how long. Eventually I opened my eyes. She was looking at me like I was the weirdest thing in the world. 

"Hey, Ro-Ro," I said, patting her. "Is it weird? All your friends being gone? I bet you miss them. I know I do."

I wiped my eyes with the hem of my shirt and continued. "I'll visit you, you know. And..." I sighed. "I love you, Rosy, so much. And I promise, I'll never forget you." I turned to walk away, but hugged her one more time. "Goodbye, sweetheart," I whispered. I looked out at the now-empty arena, almost seeing the ghosts of the children learning to ride, and the more advanced riders starting their jumping and cantering. So many people learned so much here, and now it was all gone. I wiped my eyes again and left.

As I rode home, the wind was against me the whole way. Go back! it seemed to scream. Go home! Go and hug Rosy and never, ever let go!

But I didn't. I pushed forward, and kept moving, away from the world I had once loved, and would never stop loving, even though it was gone.

When I got home, I pulled the halter from my backpack, hugging it to my chest. I looked at the little charm I had bought. ROSY, it read.

I pulled it off and tied a string through it-I'd get a better chain later, a thin, gold one-and pulled it over my head, tucking it under my shirt. I barely felt it, but I knew I'd keep it there, always. It was a part of me, like VRH would always be. A piece of my heart, that I would never let go.