Wednesday, September 19, 2007; 7:07 PM
It recedes around my fingers
If not for my weekly horsey fix, I think the mental asylum would come knocking on my door with handcuffs ready to escort me away to some fantastical world where all the walls are white and dreams mix with reality.

It's a soft muzzle pushing its way into my hand and the subtle nicker of contentment when my heart feels tired and my soul weary. Its the escape when the wind runs along with us and all that matters is the wide, open sky - and it suddenly doesn't matter anymore wheter or not he will ever call, or if there is enough money, or the future - not even the future matters, because when I am on a horse, we run away from everything and it is the only time it's alright to run away, leaving behind everything on the ground from the second my foot lands in the stirrup.

With a horse there are no teary arguments, no worries, no words - because words are powerful - only actions, and actions are far more powerful than words. It is the hand on the small of my back in a crowd, or the warmth of your fingers intertwined in mine when we cross roads, or the feel of your lips on my forehead when I leave - actions that matter, like my seatbones on the saddle and the slightest twitch of my wrist, the nudge of my heels and trust, oh the trust instilled as we jump fences with the wind whirling in our ears.

If all humans thought like horses then life would be so much simpler.

Has it already been four months? Four months since I met you and you turned my life completely upside down, into this unpredictable mess of paper and hearts, a roller-coaster of emotions as we exploded into each other's existence. I don't know how many times we've argued and how many tears I've spilt, or how much things will change from here - because things are already starting to change - but I'll always hope that whenever we're together, we'll still be laughing like we always always do, so that people all around stop to stare at our happiness.

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