For all the things that haunt you…here is what I am haunted by.
I am haunted by the empty space in my life left by my late horse Bert. When he was alive, my life revolved around him. When I was in class I was paying attention and prepared so I wouldn’t have to study extra later and could spend more time with him. I was focused and driven by my goal to graduate and get a job so that I could own property and have him live with me. Since he passed, I have been floundering. I am still searching for a new purpose to my life. I do the mininum in school, watch tv, hardly write anymore except for assignments. I hung out and talked with Barb and Mida all the time and now I rarely see them. I had tons of horse memorabilia that I had collected, now I’m tempted to get rid of them. I haven’t added to it since his passing.
I have often thought about adding to it, whether it’s a cheap plastic horse or a pricey ceramic figurine I am constantly reminded of who I used to be and what I used to collect. I used to be a person who listened to Country music almost exclusively, and disdained the R&B and Pop music my sister listened to on the radio. All of this while secretly liking certain songs, but being too proud to say so or admit to it. Now I listen almost exclusively to Pop and R&B and seldom listen to Country radio anymore. I still listen to Country music, but just the old songs that I have already heard and now. I do not keep up with any of the new songs or artists anymore.
Since Bert’s passing, I am still trying to redefine myself. I’m still trying to define myself so that way I can redefine myself. I don’t know if I like horses anymore. I don’t know if I like Country music or country living anymore. Cowboy boots, once a staple in my wardrobe, now sit in my closet. I don’t know if I like them anymore. I prayed to St. Francis frequently they my pets would live long and healthy lives. Eleven years old is not old for a horse. Eleven years is still young, middle age for horses doesn’t start until about fifteen or sixteen. I don’t know if I’m religious anymore.
All of this indecision is caused by the empty void in my life. If Bert hadn’t died I wouldn’t be having this crisis of self. I used to have a plan. How ironic that it is the loss of my horse, and not the loss of my father, that has me spiraling.