Falling off my High Horse

January 17, 2017

I had a giant horse once. 16 hands high. Basically gargantuan. I fell off him.

He took me next to a manure pile and let me down softly into the shit, so it wasn’t that bad.

How hard we fall can be offset by where we land. A manure pile can feel like a feather bed under the right circumstances.

On that note…

Can I have your attention please?

Excuse me…over here. Just hang on while I climb down off my high horse, down off my soap box, now just a little lower




Even lower

There you go.


Down here in the crazy underground garage below rock bottom.

This was low even for me.

I say with great regularity “I’m not that girl anymore”. That’s the New Me talking, with great pride even.

Well, apparently I am not, until I am.

Not enough sugar in the world…

Here goes.

Forgive me father for I cheated, with a 19 year old.

Besides myself and 19, 5 people knew about this. And now all y’all know.

Sometimes I post things here and expect the intended audience of one to read what I wrote and they don’t.

And sometimes the last person I expect to see things stumbles into a mess I made ages ago.

I accept the consequences, I always do whether I want to or not.

Three things cannot be hidden long, the sun, the moon and the truth.

I did do the thing after all.

I have people I confess things to depending on what response I want.

Sunshine was involved. Others too.

I have done some fucked up shit in my day but usually with no witnesses. Not this time.

I then told The Hulk and Biker Body Pillow. Our Sara of Lords and finally Habibi.

Hulk said “Oh really? A 19 y/o who thinks an older tattooed stripper is hot…I could swing a cat and hit 19 more just like him.”

I told Sara I needed church, she knew what I meant.

Once upon a time I met a boy at work.

Gangsta looking little shit. Figured he’d be good for a drink and a fight.

Thought he was 26 or so and a coke dealer

It was seriously dead at work, my choice was made by smell. Everyone else looked stinky, he looked clean. So I sit and we chat a bit. And he is actually nice and smart and funny and not a coke dealer



I was drunk and gave him my number.

19 messages the next day asking how work is. I say ‘weird, roomie is here and it’s dead’. I tell him to pop by if he wants. So many shenanigans.

I am pulled a typical me (age 16-36) right now. It’s almost comical. Like New Me is watching Old Me and saying ‘so this is what we’re doing now?’ okay baby.’

Like I regressed in my sleep

Maybe I’m pulling back before launch? Still not enough sugar to coat this.

Roommate had the shittiest date ever, rolled into work and it was a shit show. 19 shows up and ends up consoling her. She invited him back home. We talk and spoon and sleep. Wake up looking and feeling like death, he leaves at 7am.

Thought that would be the end of that.

But he kept messaging, like he didn’t see me looking like warmed up shit in the morning or get harassed by my friends or any of that. Instead he asks if we are still on for Thursday. Fuck it, why not. I’ll feed him before I tell him I have a boyfriend. Padding for everyone.

I figured he’d leave, call me a name or two and that would be that.


He said “I understand, you gotta do what’s best for you.”

What in the actual fuck?

The terrifying part? As he said it I realized, I have no idea what that is.

I cannot justify what I did and I’m not trying to. But I kinda feel like the gods sent me this random boy to remind me what good attention feels like.

I can see clearly now that I got comfortable in something that on many levels works for me, but something is still missing.

Even though ‘Old Me’ had made a sudden surprise appearance, ‘New Me’ knew better than to make rash decisions, especially when the moon is full, Mercury is heading into retrograde and I am bleeding.

I got confronted with a choice, fight… flight or freeze. I stood still.

I said what I needed to say.

Something had to give, I had to fall, either from grace or the lack thereof. I am grateful for my place to land.








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