Today I found out that my best friend from childhood was dead. I have not felt this much heartache in a long, long time. It's been over ten years since we've seen each other but I've thought of him often. I've cried myself silly many times thinking about him, wondering why we were apart. Now he's gone and a part of me is, too.
Yes, he was a horse. Not "just a horse," though. Don't be fooled. He was my friend, my mentor, my co-conspirator. My psychiatrist on an almost daily basis. He was there for me any time I needed him, and as a shy, nerdy high school girl I needed him a lot.
We won lots of shows, took lots of long rides. There wasn't anywhere he wasn't willing to go with me and he was always ready to ride. In fact, he was one of those horses that prefers to have a job to do with their favorite human. He was perfectly happy with me in the saddle all day.
He was the bridge between childhood and adulthood and a reminder of the carefree youth you love but never get back. I let him go and with him went all the dreams of a horse-crazy kid. I'm not sure you get a second chance at that.