A decade has passed, from when I finished elementary school (grade 7 in my area) and went into high school and when I first started riding horses. They are milestones that seem so distant to me now but were once new things.
Ten years. So much has changed. And maybe some things haven’t (I think several of my shirts still fit from then…and I still wear at least one of them).
Ten years ago, I was twelve years old.
I look back to that time. It was the beginning of the world of school and some horses. A world that I still inhabit in some ways, abeit differently.
But what strikes me the most is the difference of optimism.
Ten years ago, everything seemed possible in some way – I was introduced to the world at my fingertips. Well, I wasn’t sure about school back then. Ironically, that turned out to be the least of my struggles.
I thought everything was possible…eventually. I truly did think that I could become a fabulous talented rider. Maybe I could be some sort of horse whisperer or trainer. But most of all, I would have a horse friend of my own – like all those horse books. And I truly did think that I would one day own a horse. One day, perhaps in a few years…..and I truly believed it that one day it will happen, somehow.
But now it’s ten years later. Owning a horse or pony (or whatever equid) seems as mythical as owning a unicorn. It’s just a myth, an impossibility. Being an “amazing rider” and horse whisperer has also become a myth as I have discovered I personally sort of suck with all aspects of horses from barn chores to handling to riding (or so I think). What I thought would bring me happiness, brought me envy as it just became another thing that I would not move forward in. Just another thing that I would unable to be or feel not good enough.
I’m not sure what to do anymore. In anything. I’m not sure what I’m good at, even though I know what I’m not good at.
But the real issue is that now ten years later, my dreams have fallen and are now dragging on the ground. I’m not sure what to believe anymore. I’m almost afraid to be optimistic, in fear of more disappointment. I am drowning in cynicism and apathy. I am screaming words of nothing. I am running into walls. I’m not even sure what I want anymore. I just know know that I don’t want my life the way it is now. It’s too bland. Too out of place.
What do I want? What do I really want? And what is actually possible, achievable?
Ten years ago, I had little friends.
This hasn’t changed, if only I have even less now. I certainly didn’t gain any. Not really.
As for my life, that too now feels like an impossibility. I’m not sure how I’m going to do anything or sometimes what.
I close my eyes and in the distance, shrouded in the fog are my dreams. They never left me, not really. But they are hidden, elusive to me. I’m not sure what to do with them anymore. They are untouchable, mythical.
Ten years. What would life be like in another ten years?
I don’t know. I can barely see myself in a year, let alone ten.
I hope it’ll be better because to be honest, the last ten years sucked. Sure, there were good moments, but the last few years sucked.