For me, 2013 was not a good year. I had been headed in a bit of a
downward spiral starting in 2012 when some things had gone wrong. Then in February of 2013, my beloved horse died suddenly. That set me into a deep and lasting period of depression and withdrawal. Then, my neck issue started up again and this time it was worse than ever, leading to my surgery this year. However, of all those things, none compares to the ending of the best love of my life. While it was not my decision to end the relationship, and I know that I alone did not cause to the breakdown, I do regret that I didn't do more to open the channels of communication and work on my issues that might have led to a different ending. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, to this point has left me with such a sense of loss and regret as having my girlfriend of 4 years tell me that she was ending things. With therapy and time, I have been able to accept her decision and survive. Survival was very much not guaranteed for several months after the split. I can believe the scientific studies that have found how in some cases breakups can be like drug withdrawal, for I had many of the same types of symptoms. Now, most days are ok and some are even very good, but I still have moments, sometimes even full days, where the pain becomes very real again. There are some things you just know in life, and for me, I've no doubt that I lost the best love (not including family love) that can happen between two individuals. So for me, I wish: I had said I love you more. I had made more time to things with her. I had kissed her more often. I had spent more quiet moments just feeling the warmth of her presence. I had dealt with my hang-ups and doubts earlier. I had spoke more openly about what was going on under my façade. I had written to her of my deep-felt feelings. I had done all of the things I could to insure we were still together. None of it might have worked, but I would be left with less regret now. What do you regret? I've had a lot of "dream" jobs in my life. Things I wanted to do and
pursue. Like most people, I didn't fall into any of those "dream" jobs. I guess at some point you realize that you don't fall into the a job. If you really want it, you have to plan for it, go for it and put in the hard long hours to make it happen. Many of those jobs could still be attainable under the battle cry of "Never too old!" Today, I am looking back on a career that I wanted from the time I was very young and that has now raced beyond my reach. I have had a passion for horses ever since I can recall. I would say I was born with it though I am certain that some of those of a scientific background would argue against that notion. Growing up in West Texas in the 1970s, I had plenty of horses that I could see on drives around the countryside and was even lucky enough sometimes to convince my mother to take me to one of the small time tracks in the area. Horse racing was enjoying one of its golden ages at the time, and those fabulously fast horses became my favorites. The first one I remember was Seattle Slew. He was born the same year I was and had such a will to never let anyone else pass him. To this day, he is one of my favorite racehorses. The next year would bring the love of my horseracing life into my world - Alydar. With the love and admiration of these horses, I grew to want to be a jockey. To sit on the back of a horse that flew around a track, unfettered by the commands of gravity still appeals to me to this day. There are lots of "reasons" why I didn't pursue that path, but I've come to learn as I have gotten older that the only real reason was myself. I let all the doubts and fears of pursuing such a path drown that dream of mine. Yes, I could go back and try to make a go of it. I am not that old yet; I am small in stature and in great shape. A few years back, I was even going to try to get a job as an exercise rider with the ultimate goal of riding in races. However, having come to learn of my cervical spine issues and just having had a multi-level spinal fusion, I have come to put that particular dream to rest. I am thankful for the experiences I have had with horse while I do have that scar of regret that I didn't do more to become a jockey, as I dreamed of doing all those years ago. That small voice of childhood still whispers that it must be one of the finest ways to spend a life, soaking up the smells and sights of the magnificent horses who fly without wings. I have learned now to not take as much for granted, but most especially have learned to not let myself get in the way of those things I want to do in life. I have already lost too much, not just my chance at a dream career, when I have let myself get in the way of the things that would make me the happiest. I had come to the boardwalk since before I could walk. My mother would bundle up my sister and I and off we would go to the beach nearly every weekend of my youth. As a child, ventures to the boardwalk only happened when she wanted something there, but as we grew up, she let us go more and more together and then on our own. The beach could relax you, but the boardwalk held the real excitement. From the dancing lights to the magical music, I fell for the boardwalk's charms hard. I never imagined I could love anything more than the boardwalk until I met her. I sat that day when she found me on a bench sucking down the remnants of a rapidly dissolving purple sno-cone. She deftly parted a nebula of dancing balloons and stepped into my stratosphere. Gravity pulled me to those piercing green eyes and something in my young heart told me that life would never be the same. What was left of the sno-cone fell to the ground, one more forgotten casualty of lost childhood. "Hi, I'm Andy, short for Andrea." She thrust her had in my face, and I recall sitting there like a mute. I could hear her asking if I had a name and looking more puzzled. I shared her confusion because I had never had trouble talking. Friendship started that day on the boardwalk, after I found my tongue, of course, and eventually, it would blossom into full-blown romance, with stolen kisses and fervent promises uttered on steamy nights as we strolled hand-in-hand on the boardwalk. Whisked away from those mostly happy moments, my mind showed me our final meeting on the boardwalk. Each of us unaware of what the other had in mind during that reunion meeting. Both of us had been away at colleges hundreds of miles apart. even the dead have birthdays to distract them from their obsession with the living.
they dress up in party hats and throw confetti on the special day. there is cake and ice cream and perhaps some adult beverages. music fills the air and they delight in one another's company. i no longer have birthdays because i am neither living nor dead. i'm stuck between worlds without a heart anymore. Her hair once a red-gold that I could only call chestnut had turned the silvery-blonde that those with red hair always seemed to chose in defiance of the white that touched most of us. Wrinkles mapped the life she had led since we had last stood on this boardwalk when she told me that she was not happy and that she was leaving me with an empty apartment and a useless ring in my pocket.
Of all my memories on the boardwalk, those belonging to her kept me coming back. As fast as a speeding bullet, as fast as an airbag springs to save a life, as fast as a jet pierces the sky, a single memory of us unfolded. Of all the ones to select, my mind made the easiest association. Fifteen years old. Is there ever a more perfect and dreadful time of life? How long does it take a memory to unfurl in the breeze of the mind and take flight to full-blown escape?
I felt eyes on me, pulling me from the past into the present, just a sad old person sitting on a boardwalk bench trying to remember what life used to taste like when the flavors used to be sweeter. I glanced around searching for whose eyes would guiltily flee mine when they realized I knew they were staring. Still I saw no one, but my eyes settled on the balloon man's corner. Something had changed there, something was not like it usually was. It took a second or two before my mind puzzled out the problem. A child of four would have found it faster, their neurons firing at speeds a fighter jet couldn't match, but when you are old, nothing moves fast. A pair of feet peeked out from the mass of the balloons that were no longer tethered to the balloon man's stand. Presumably, the feet attached to a body that also attached to hands, the very hands that held the balloons captive. I had a moment of déjà vu, indescribable awareness that I had experienced this before, not exactly, but close enough. It could come, but those messengers in my mind fired as fast as they could without causing an overload They left me to stare in stupefied wonder at the dancing balls of red, green, blue and yellow. The breeze played with them, taunting me to remember the day, the place and the name. The scene rolled out in slow motion only for me. The hand released the hold on the strings. Andy The name appeared in my mind, and odd assortment of emotions drummed up at the name, and as the balloons lifted off to heavenly heights, the woman attached to the name stood before me. I could smell the sweet scents of cotton candy mingling with the friend foods that represented Summer, fun, youth and all the possibilities that life could offer. The boardwalk rippled in the heat, sending out a faint scent of baking wood. Those around me barely noticed that odor, as they dashed from spot to spot, laughing at one another and believing in the infinite possibilities of life.
Like the scent of the wood, I remained out of place, to the side, unnoticed. The boardwalk, like all that Summer brings, belonged to youth. The rest of us were just witnesses to the unfolding drama of the journey of life. Any one of those children, stepping fast to avoid the burn of the hot boards, could have been me, not so long before. The boardwalk held many memories of the best times of my life. Retired, alone except for my regrets, I spent my Summer days and into the nights sitting there. While those around me were busy building their memories, I sat there replaying mine. the leaves of last fall lie crumpled and dead in the ditch
they crackle and creak under foot and I envy their talent for talking from the grave. they burned brightly in hues that delighted us and as a justly earned reward they lie down in pastures that will become green. the tree that abandoned them long forgotten. we burned brightly together for a moment before you let go of me like so much detritus but instead of sweet release, I was sentenced to life. I sit, therefore, in a ditch covering myself and contemplating last Fall's leaves. I saw you in shadow and light. A vision to behold, a fiery light that
lit up the night. In you mixed the aromas of things beyond my reason, things that excited the heart of me and made me long for a soul worthy of a path that would lead to your own. You viewed me. You evaluated, calculated the trajectory that would lead to a shared path. In a mere glance, you contrived the exact arc of such a path, how the fires would burn to cool and meld into either security or a burnout. Probable failure but worth the risk. Into your orbit, I fell. A steady rhythm of heart, soul and a meeting of minds. I could hear your heartbeat, as it fluttered just so often, a skip of a beat, what did it mean? Would you be mine for all time? I imagined a future ending in two souls entwined for all time. You heard a heartbeat, the pulling in and pushing out of blood. Skips are a myth contrived by overactive imaginations. Out of imagination we deceive ourselves into believing things that aren't real, you couldn't see souls and entwining was farfetched. We together moved mountains, whether by sheer brilliance or the steady work of a pebble at a time. Others heard music like none other in our wake and the steady beat of our hearts pumped out a perfume that made them long for another glance. I felt the demon after it held firmly to my soul, pulling me down into some purgatory of sadness and depression. How this shattered heart still pumped my lifeforce to keep going remains a mystery to me. Life, colorless and without hope propels me to the end. You reject the us as mythology, the realm of unicorns and gods that shower down on their subjects. Rational, cold and alone, you calculate, looking for the next arc, the next destination, vowing to be more logical in your next selection. It's caught my scent again and is coming up on me fast.
Haven't been able to outrun it or keep it at bay. It's relentless, no pity or mercy and will outlast all who try to cross its path. It is here to stay. It's had me by the throat and tears out my heart. If it I could run away with my soul and take all the pain I would welcome it in and set about to make a new start. Instead it only gnaws away and I am driven insane. This time though, it underestimates me and I stand still. Like a rabid animal it charges and I stand still shotgun at ready. Tonight I say goodbye to the painful memories that chill my heart and soul are united, my courage is steady. Tonight I bid you adieu. Tonight I am |
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