Ethan and I had a fight on Sunday morning, which are becoming more and more frequent. It centered around a horse care dispute, in which I thought he was being entirely ungrateful for my advice (that he asked for), and he thought I was being a condescending know-it-all and speaking to him like he's an idiot (my brother gave me that look that says "well, you can be a condescending know-it-all" when I retold this to him, so you don't have to take my side 100% here).
After I had a fantastic ride and Tucker soothed my nerves and reassured me that all will always be okay so long as I can get a good, round, forward left lead canter, I went back home to deal with the situation, feeling confident that I'd turn this around into a teaching moment and I'd help Ethan learn some horse care stuff that he should know how to do anyway, as a horse owner, and I'd be helpful and patient and he'd be appreciative and we'd have a positive outcome from all this.
Ethan wasn't around so I settled down to watch some TV. Ah, The Longest Ride. I had initially avoided this movie because Nicholas Sparks is insipid (just ask Lauren), but maybe a good cowboy-themed Rom Com is just what I need to get myself into the mindset of being a loving and sweet girlfriend to my quasi-cowboy boyfriend.
Nicholas Sparks is a f***ing life ruiner. You know what Nicholas Sparks and his ilk do? They lead you to believe that real men should behave like the scripted men in these stupid movies. That real men might actually waltz into the house with flowers, literally hat in hand, and say something charming.
That is not what happens in real life. Did you know that?
What happens in real life is that when you piss a real man off, he stays pissed off. He doesn't bring flowers, he brings a fight. A fight that will make you jump out of your chair, angrily hitting the OFF button on the remote because you can't stand to hear another word of this Sparks-inspired idiocy, leaving the room in sudden darkness. A fight that will send you storming through the house -- the house you love, by the way, the house you once looked at and saw your entire future spilling out around you like some stupid fairytale. A fight that will leave you both standing in an empty kitchen screaming at each other, and finally, a fight that will end with you uttering the words "I'm done."
Those words will result in you packing all your worldly belongings into your truck in the middle of the night. You'll be thankful, at the time, that you are a pick-up kind of girl, because you'll do it all in one trip, so he'll come home from work and find you and all your things gone. And at the time you'll get some satisfaction from that image. And you'll feel like a country song come to life and think about really ridiculous metaphors regarding tail lights and rear view mirrors, and at the time these will seem very profound.
And then you'll wake up in a strange bed every day for a week, alone except for a fluffy cat, whose terror at being in a new place will exponentially compound the guilt you feel (congratulations, you ruined your cat's life too). And every single morning of that week will start the same way. As you stir into consciousness, you'll have this vague feeling that something terrible happened. And then as your senses pick up on the unfamiliar surroundings, you'll remember that your heart is broken and you just took a wrecking ball to the life you had been building. And you will get up and drink coffee instead of laying there crying, because the rest of the world is oblivious to all of this, and you still have deadlines and responsibilities.
After a week of feeling this way, you will realize that you must try to fix this. You will realize all the ways in which you played a hand in the demise of your relationship. You will realize that you've mistreated the one person in this world that you cannot live without, and you will desperately fear the possibility that it can't be remedied.
I am trying to fix it. I am trying to figure out how to change and improve, the same way you'd try to figure out how to change and improve when a horse is not responding the way you had hoped. And I am wishing that I believed more strongly in the power of prayer. And since I don't, I am spending a lot of time with Tucker, working on things like our left lead canter.