The thing about healing is that it's not just going to suddenly get better. Some days you'll feel fine and some days you wake up already feeling like shit before you even open your eyes. Some days you'll be able to smile through the pain and some days you'll cry into your pillow wishing for it all to be over.
Healing takes time. It's the dumbest cliche of them all, but it's the only thing you have. Time. You can keep trying, no, you have to keep trying to make it better, to find things that will make you feel better. They're there, I promise. You'll laugh again, you'll love again, you'll love living again. And some days you'll come back home and crash and break and cry again, because that's how it works. That's how the pain works.
You are hurting and that is alright. You have to learn to live with the pain and you have to learn to survive it. And you will survive it.
knowing I will let this kill me.
it hasn't yet.
It was a scene, at least I like to think, straight out of a movie. A horsegirl movie, the kind that makes you cry like every good movie about animals does. But there were no happy tears that day, because I was saying goodbye to a friend. To a horse that a year before stood in the field, ignored and unwated because people broke it and no one wanted to take on the responsibility of fixing it. I did.
I found the owner and told her that all I want is a horse I could treat like my own without having to pay for it and she accepted. That was my moment, my thing that finally made me the responsible adult I was supposed to be.
And damn it, I did it. I took that horse and I fixed it. I loved that crazy red mare and she loved me back. We spent the whole summer together and then the autumn and then the winter. Most of the winter anyway. We never got a spring.
The owner decided to sell her and I found out the day the buyers came to look at her. A nice family with two little girls who told me that I could come visit any time I wanted. Then the mom told the little girls, "She'll be perfect for you. You can teach her anything, she'll be yours."
I wanted to tell them, "But she's mine." But she wasn't. In the face of someone offering money for her, I had no claim to the horse that I taught how to ride and run and love people again. That mare was who she was because of me and in the blink of an eye, I was losing her.
I couldn't do it. I called my mom to come pick me up, grabbed my jacket and walked away. I was strong. I held in it. Then my mom asked, "What's wrong?" and I broke down. I climbed into the shotgun seat crying my eyes out and as my mom started the car to take me home, to take me away from the horse I loved but would never see again, the radio started playing, "Pain! You break me down and build me up, believer!"
Six months later, I was back in it and this time, I wasn't taking any chances. I bought my own horse, so no one could rip it ouf of my hands this time, a young one, a strong one, happy and full of life. I loaded her up and got into the car to drive her home. The radio turned on and as we turned onto the main street, I noticed the same old song playing. "Pain! Oh, let the bullets fly, oh, let them rain!"
It was a sign, right? That damned song that I haven't heard since I broke down in my mom's car was playing again, surely that meant something. This was my poetic happy ending and nothing could hurt me now.
But my new mare was sick a lot. I thought, oh, that's nothing. This is typical for her breed, we just need to be more careful with her food and buy more supplements.
She was crazy and wild. She loved to do her own thing, but everything I tried to teach her, she picked up so quickly. She had the steadiest gallop I've ever seen. She'd trip on air when she walked, but let her run and I knew she would never fall.
She made it ten months. I could buy all the supplements in the world and it wouldn't have helped. The vet was there the whole afternoon. I begged her. I told her, "You're so young, you have more than this in you, I know you do." She didn't. She wanted to, she wanted to so badly, but she didn't. I was going to take her to the forest on the weekend.
When my mom took me home that evening, I didn't turn on the radio. My happy ending shattered in my hands in the span of one afternoon, I didn't want to know. But to this day I wonder, if I turned on the radio, would I have heard the same tune?
Today marks exactly one year since I bought her. A little over two months since I lost her. I haven't listened to the song since but sometimes, when I'm crying and breaking down, all I can think of are the lyrics. My life, my love, my drive, it came from pain.
It is what it is.
Making plans that don't work out. Friendships that fall apart. Heart getting broken despite me doing my damned best to save it. I hang onto the edge of the cliff with my fingertips, hoping that something will change and pull me back up. I fall down, straight to the rock bottom and I have to get back up on my own two feet. I look at that cliff and head out again, because I am stubborn enough, hopeful enough, stupid enough to do so. I am bruised and broken, crying at night, begging someone to come and fix me, but no one is coming. I have to do it myself and damn it, I will. Life sucks. It is what it is. I still want my happy ending.
They lie. They lie and I could say it again and again and it wouldn't make a different. They would still say it, because they would still foolishly believe it. They would still say that this is good for me, that next time it happens I'll know how to deal with it and they would think they've mad me feel better.
I'm tired. I'm so tired of getting stronger. It's exhausting. It's killing me. I don't want to do it anymore, I've had enough of getting hurt. I've had enough of crying, of losing sleep overthinking things I cannot change. I've had enough.
There's a limit. There's a limit to how strong a person can become before it breaks them. Before they cave under the pressure, before they decide they don't want to be strong anymore. There's a limit to how much a person can take before they realize it's not worth it.
They next time the world wants to make me stronger, I wish it would kill me instead.