Lonely Horse 2000

As a child growing up in a rural area outside of Santa Fe, I always had a horse in my life.  At the age of four, my mother and I negotiated :  If I would give up my bottle I would get a pair of cowboy boots.  With the new boots came riding lessons, and then, when I was six, we moved into a house with five horses out back.  It was in an area without many people, and there was a large ranch to the west where I could ride endlessly without fences or roads to impede me.  My horses were my best friends, and I learned about my place in the natural world while on their backs, usually without a saddle.

I was very shy as a child (and still am--I've just learned how to act like I'm not), and I didn't have many friends.  Being around people was  difficult because I didn't know how to interpret their emotions, or understand how they felt about me.  In the third grade I met Jennifer, and she became my best friend.  I was complete for the first time in my conscious life, and not alone anymore.  However, I was a jealous and possessive friend, and by the fifth grade, Jennifer had dropped me for a new group of less demanding girls.  It was a hard lesson, and even now, 49 years later, I can remember the overwhelming pain and sadness of being alone once again.