Bitterness

I didn't really say a whole lot about it, but Speedy and I were supposed to go to a two-day USDF show this past weekend. We didn't go. The trailer was loaded. The truck was loaded. As I was pulling out of the driveway heading to the ranch to hook up, I saw a missed call from the ranch owner. Speedy was lame.

I am very much a glass half full, find the silver lining, make lemonade sort of girl. After hearing that Speedy was lame, I shrieked. I cursed. I cursed at God. I tried to cry, but the tears wouldn't fall. I thought I might vomit. I wanted to. Instead, the anger just burned and seethed in the very pit of my gut. There was no silver lining. The disappointment turned to a deep bitterness that enveloped me, squeezing me until I thought I would suffocate. 

I tried to find a rational explanation for my anger. It was just a show. There will be others. There will always be others...

But what if there aren't'?

And that's when I understood my anger. Speedy isn't a machine. He won't be my partner forever. And in all likelihood, he won't be my partner for much longer. His Cushing's Disease, despite my best efforts, will progress. I will be faced with painful decisions. Decisions that I am already making in my head. I can't let my heart make them. I can't even open my heart because the second I try to, the tears fill my eyes, threatening to fall and fall and fall.

Speedy and I aren't done. There is so much more that I need from him. For him. This Bronze Medal that is so close, it's for him, not me. Speedy doesn't owe me a single thing; it's I who owe him. 

​Just one more show. Please.