This whole rodeo is a tough sport to be in.  They say that the best thing to do is get back on the horse, though.  You’ve just fallen off, bumped your head on the ground, you have a bit of a headache, but you’re okay.  You give it a couple of days, that was a hard damn fall.  However, there you are, a week later, riding away happily.  Things are going really great now.  You are having the most awesome time.  Things are feeling really good too, and you are settling into a rhythm that you could ride with forever.  But then the horse decides it’s PMS is too bad this month and bucks wildly.  You’re thrown badly off it, landing awkwardly on your shoulder, and you hear your clavicle snap.  The horse doesn’t run away, no, it comes back, sees you riling on the floor in pain, and proceeds to trample all over you, breaking 3 ribs and fracturing your left leg.  You also have a concussion.  You’re broken, both physically and emotionally, and you never see yourself ever riding again.

But now, weeks pass and you miss it.  Badly.  You miss your horse.  The way it galloped in a technique only you could fathom.  And it had the most beautifully groomed mane.  But that bitch broke you.  And you never forget.  So you try a few other horses.  Ugly, unattractive, shallow horses, but they ride really badly and all you’re left with is a stiff back and what feels like a hangover.  Then, one day, you’re walking through the stables and you come across a real beauty, the kind of horse that makes you stop and just admire.  Without thinking, you jump on it, and bolt out the stable at full speed, riding for miles and miles.  You’re having a really great time until you realise how far you’ve gone out and you’re already exhausted.  The horse still seems ready for more, so you slow down to a trot to try keep it happy, but it still doesn’t help.  You’re too concerned your riding fitness is really low, so you eventually turn and make your way back, with the horse seemingly unhappy.  You eventually get back to the stables, and dismount slowly.  You’re both hurting, and went way to fast to appreciate it properly.  You leave awkwardly and call every now and then to see how the horse is, but that long hard ride caused reoccurring injuries that you thought were all better.  This time, treatment is harder, longer, and much more painful.  You don’t think you’ll ever ride again.

The hardest part of a breakup is the recovery, obviously.  No one can tell you how to do it, or how long it’ll take before you’re okay, but when you’re ready to jump back on the horse, you’ll know.  About a month after my breakup, I got together with a really amazing girl.  We were together for a few months, but it really was too soon for me, and I ruined something that may have been very different if it had been at a different time.  I’m so truly happy that it happened, maybe not totally the way it did happen, but happy, still, and I’m really glad we’re good friends now.  She doesn’t really know how much I appreciate her and how much I really adore her.  I’ve tried to tell her, but I’m not sure she really believes me.  Needless-to-say, she was soon out of my life, and I was once again left in a painful hole.

The good thing about this time is that it was my time.  It was the first time in quite a few years that I was just with me, to be me, to learn more and to grow.  The recovery period has taken a long time, but it really has been about me; I haven’t even had the odd fling.  But now, I think I’m ready, for whatever this damn world has to offer.

Or so I thought.  I had been chatting to this girl for quite some time, getting quite close, and very personal.  And I kinda really liked her.  But Twitter causes problems as well as fixes them, and due to our online presence, we both got affected by seeing things, even if there wasn’t anything there to begin with.  And what makes it worse, we were not in any type of real relationship whatsoever.  Wait, that can’t be true, I like this girl.  But she got hurt, and drifted slowly away without actually telling me what was wrong, and I was far too slow in drawing the answer out of her.  So, after all of that, she wanted the “let’s start from the beginning” approach.  Yay.

So, here we sit, both online.  My brain tells me not to message her because I shouldn’t.  It really sucks when you know you should stop, but you just can’t.  So, of course, the first few nights I didn’t stop.  I tried, tried both to stop, and then to see if there was anything still there.  Too little to late, though, and I got nothing.  There was once a small glimmer, a glimmer I didn’t quite understand, but it turned out to be a funny reflection.  She’s still online and it makes me wonder who she’s talking to now, who has her pretty, amazing attention.  She’s probably reading this, in which case, don’t get freaked out, but it had to be said.  I guess it’s time for another medium recovery now.  It’s a real pity.  Really.  But I’m ready, and I will be fine.  Bring on the stables…