secrets.

Three Days

Today I met a girl with a wide smile. She said she once was afraid of me.

She said she owned a horse who mimicked mine. Right down to the color choice of our tack.

She told me she was afraid to befriend me. Everytime she looked at my mare, she would see Sam. The gelding who's no longer there.

Her horses got loose today. Two sorrels that were crazy from the remnants of the rain.

I helped to get them back to their stall; I was riding a horse that could herd, after all.

I checked to make sure everything was okay. They said they were fine, it was just one of those days.

And then after my ride, as I'm mucking her stall, they drive by.

We talk and we talk and I think I've made a friend. Besides, it's too good of a story to pass up.

So I said it was nice to meet them and we should ride together some day and she said yes, wouldn't that be great.

And now its hitting me full force. I've just made a friend and she owns a horse.

I've just made a friend with so much in common with me it's scary. Even down to our first horses looking identical.

This is an opportunity to branch out. To jump full force from my comfort zone and really experience being young.

That's something I'll never get to do again. But I still feel empty.

This morning, I felt peaceful. Quiet. Silent.

Now, I feel silent. Empty. Like the part of me that should care and should feel and right now should hurt is gone and I don't know what to do.

But I can't find it in me to care. I don't want that part of me, not right now. That part of me hurts.

I believe I'm moving on. Quickly. Running away so I don't have a chance to turn back to the roses.

And that's good, because that means I won't.

Except I don't think I'm ready to move on. Definitely ready to go back and proclaim my undying love (not that I have any love. That was an illusion that I know will return when I smell the roses again).

And I know that I don't want to go back. That it's not healthy. That it will hurt.

So what the fuck is wrong with that part of me that tells me I'll be fine? That says, fuck the evidence stacked against me, just go and be with the girl you once loved.

I can't. I have to stay right where I am. I have to be strong. We both back to be strong.

Otherwise, we'll both be too weak to leave the rose garden again.

We need to let it rot. To die. We need to make every one of those lucious, prickly flowers wither away and crumble until our beautiful garden is nothing but a pile of dust fallen over cracked stone.

And then, maybe, we can go back. See the ruins we left it in. Maybe we'll leave again, maybe we'll plant more roses and start all over.

One way or another.

I feel like my mission on this planet is finished. I feel like I'm ready to give up.

So here's what I'm doing.

I've decided to give myself three days. If I still feel empty when three days have passed, I'll do...  something. I haven't decided what yet.

I want to die, so who knows. Maybe I'll make that happen. Maybe I'll seek help.

But I'm giving myself three days and if I feel happy or sad or anything in those three days, my count starts over. It only resumes when I feel empty again.

So that's my plan. Wish my luck, whatever that means to you.