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Screaming at the Universe

For the first time I feel like I totally get the title to Harlan’s story, I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.  I have to keep going to the barn so Vento gets out and gets exercise, and so I can feed him, but it’s killing me.  I’m watching other people riding their horses — particularly the two ladies with the new Lusitano geldings.  The youngest one, Campio, just captured my heart when I was in CA, and I thought about buying him because he was a total bargain, but my trainer had brought out a couple of her students to look at Campio and B-Campio, and I couldn’t cut them out.  Now I wish I had been an asshole.

I’m trying to focus for the next two weeks while I wait to get up to CSU, but I can’t.  Can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t work.  I’ve never been a watering pot, but I can’t stop crying.  It just hits without warning.  I know everybody’s so uncomfortable around me at the barn.  I’m trying to distance myself emotionally from Vento in case the worst case scenario comes to pass, but he loves me so much. 

These horses bond with their riders so quickly.  It’s only been a few weeks since Lennie and Cristina bought their boys, and already these young horses are resting their heads on their shoulders, and coming to the stall doors when they hear their voices.

I could ride Maarten, and he is very sweet, but I’ve been dancing the tango with a perfect partner, and with Maarten it’s like being a tiny tug boat trying to dock an aircraft carrier.  Also, I don’t want to cadge rides on other people’s horses.  I want my own horse.  My companion, my partner.

Once again I’m pouring out my grief on this blog.  Maybe because I feel like I can’t keep boring the people around me.  But I need to talk, to weep and to grieve.  I know he’s just a horse, but he’s so much more to me. 

I’m trying to tell myself that I’ll quit riding.  That I can’t go through this kind of agony again.  The money I save I could use to travel.  See more of the world.  But I’d be traveling alone.  And I found myself on line today looking for Lusitanos for sale.  There aren’t many farms in the U.S.

So maybe I take a trip to Brazil or Portugal.  Try to find that horse that will let me be a centaur again.

And maybe CSU will work a miracle.  Figure out what’s wrong with my boy, and give him back to me.

And now I’m going to try to write because I have obligations that I need to meet.  That’s the other strange thing.  Always before when things got bad in my life I’ve always been able to retreat into work.  Now even that solace is eluding me.

Sorry about this.  I’ll try to write up my thoughts on The Ghost Writer (terrific film), and Angels and Demons.  (Booooring) after I get back from Farmington.  Go to go put on the natural gas business woman hat tomorrow.

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