Jimi Hendrix...

I've spent a lot of time lately thinking about Jimi. Its time to process the hurt, and its time to sit and think hard about him and his death.

Jimi was an ex racehorse. He was a bit sway backed, but it didn't bother me at all.

I feel, in a way, Jimi's death was God's way of telling me I was going the wrong way. Desperate for some sort of male attention, I started to date my ex again, after a long period of time that I had no one in my life. A few weeks later, Jimi got hurt. I was mucking out the stalls one evening, and I looked out the window to admire my steed. I noticed he was holding one of his front legs oddly, so I went to investigate. I saw a deep gash, so I went to grab his halter and take him out of his pasture to clean him up. He wouldn't put any weight on it at all. Panicked, I went to get my boss. She helped me get him down the hill and helped me clean him up and we put him in a stall. She said he would get better, and he might just be a bit dramatic.

I knew I should have been spending every moment like I had weeks previous with Jimi, and more especially now that he was hurt, but I didn't because I felt obligated to spend time with the ex. I don't know how he got such control over me. I felt guilty not spending the weekend with him, and the ranch was a good half hour drive away, and it took out a huge chunk of my day that the ex made me feel like I should be spending with him.

I'm going to back up really quick. I didn't really ride Jimi ever. I mean, I had a few times, but he took off with me, and I fell off of him, yada yada yada, and I was too scared to ride him. My boss told me she would help me out and try to train him down, (and myself up) but with students, a full time job, and horses to train, she didn't have much time to work on him as well. I got one great ride on him before he got hurt.

Anyway, I promised him and myself that, when he got better, I'd just get on him and ride. I'd choose not to fall off. I'd choose to stick it out until he slowed down. I'd choose to ride him. I'd choose not to be afraid. But he never got better.

I feel like a failure. I feel like I failed him, and myself. I was such a chicken shit. And, the ex didn't make me feel any better. He decided that one weekend he'd have HIS ex come down to spend the weekend with him, and he wouldn't see me at all. She would even spend the night (not with him, he promised. Whatever). I felt so betrayed. I felt so violated. Most of all, I felt so guilty. Jimi needed me, and I left him to spend time with a guy that didn't value the time we had together like I did. I could have spent that valuable last few weekends with Jimi, but I didn't. I even asked the ex to go see Jimi with me, because it was getting hard and I needed him. He kept telling me next week, until the next week he was gone.

It felt like God was trying to tell me that I was going in the wrong direction, and I really needed to re-evaluate. And, because I was so blind, it was as if God had to take a drastic measure to force me to see.

And now I feel like an animal abuser. I feel neglectful. I feel like a failure. And most of all, I feel like I didn't deserve the wonderful horse that had blessed my life.

I need to come to terms with it, and I hope Jimi doesn't blame me. I know he loved me. I just hope he can forgive me. I will never do it again, I will never put a man in front of my horse. I will never let myself be manipulated again. Most of all, the next man I date exclusively, he'll encourage me to grow in my love of horses, not try to take it away from me.

I miss my horse. Oh my goodness, I miss him. I haven't ridden much since. But, I'm getting back on. Its time to suck it up, and move on. I'm going to start lessons again soon hopefully. And I'm going to get on a big horse. I'm going to ride the ex-racehorse. I'm never going to let my fears rule me. I'm going to do it for Jimi.

So, bring on the butt-chewing. Tell me what I already know. Tell me I didn't deserve him, and I should never own a horse again. The difference between me and most people, however, is I do feel guilty. I do feel horrible. And, I won't own a horse until I know I can be strong. I won't be weak.

There it is. The raw truth. I can't believe I'm publishing this... I feel like I might be featured on Fugly Horse of the Day as a terrible horrible no good very bad horsewoman that shouldn't be allowed to have a fish let alone a horse. I hope not, I love that blog.

Rest in Peace, Jimi.