Oh god. I am so sorry. I won’t pretend there is anything I can say to ease you’re pain… There isn’t. You will feel like your chest is about to cave in for a while, and then when the constant hurt eases you’ll still feel like you got punched in the chest every time a thought of him crosses through your mind. Three years later and I can’t even utter Airy’s name in conversation without loosing my breath and fighting tears.
Nothing makes the short term feel better but I can tell you what will help you feel “better” later (better is subjective, this loss will never feel “ok”)… Let yourself hurt for the horse you LOVED and lost. Write about him. Write his name, write what you had and what is no longer there, write about the future you planned… Talk if you want but don’t feel like you have too… But write it all down. Writing it is cathartic but it also ensures that every mental image you want to save is stored. Don’t try to forget because remembering hurts… It will hurt more later when you realize what you’ve forgotten, or what memories you’ve dulled.
Don’t give yourself a time line to when it shouldn’t hurt… No such thing exists, this loss will always hurt… And it should. If it didn’t hurt, you didn’t loose something worth hurting for and I know, like you do, that these animals, the loves of our lives are worth hurting for.
I didn’t realize how badly I was taken advantage of by a couple pony moms until literal MONTHS after the fact.
I hope you’re super proud of all my time you got for free… There were so many more deserving families. If you CAN afford something, pay for it… Doing what you did just proves what a selfish human you are.
And then drive away going “crap I couldn’t really afford that”
Oh well, obviously I find it worthwhile or I wouldn’t continue doing it.
Yeah no. I use the tag so people can search internally in my blog and I’ll continue to tag my horses by their names.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I’ll choke you with the same hand I fed you with.