So it comes as no surprise to me, being that I'm an overachiever and all, that while I'm failing miserable in my amorous pursuits, there is a young man I am madly in love with and find myself, this morning, up at 5am in giddy anticipation of seeing him this morning. The gentleman in question is only three years old, has fine thoroughbred bloodlines, and has four legs instead of two.
|first time on the grass, friday|
He also has the somewhat preposterous name of Jelly.
|between bites of grass yesterday|
He's too skinny and he'll probably grow a few more inches. His coat is bleached out by the sun.
|wherein jelly looks like a giant & thistle looks tiny|
He thinks he's dog too and follows me around on the grass nuzzling his head in my neck.
It's true that a horse won't take you out to dinner, or make you a cup of tea when you wake up in the morning. A horse won't ask you how your day was, or tell you that you look beautiful. But, a horse will love you unconditionally (especially if there are carrots in the equation) and for a couple of hours on a Saturday morning, will make you feel as if you're the only girl on the planet.
Winston Churchill's quote always stays with me:
“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.”-- Winston Churchill
A horse absorbs you so fully that there isn't room for anything else. Perhaps that's what I'm doing, just filling up all the unfilled bits.
My friend Jonathan, who is a wise man and likes lobster rolls almost as much as I do, advises that there should be no judgement of online dating until you've been on at least twenty dates. Yes, twenty. And you shouldn't take it too seriously. Just show up, go through the motions, and wait for the birds that suddenly appear.
Cue the Carpenters:
So I'll stop whining and I'll soldier on with my Starbucks name (Emma) and I'll report back. Okay?