"MAN I'm hungry!" I thought.
So, trip to Taco Bell?
I'd be delighted!

And as I drove to the Taco Bell which is hardly more than 5 blocks away, as I passed by the highschool (a block away from my house). I saw something. Nah! There's no way I just saw someone riding a horse. Hm... I turn around to make sure I'm not going crazy. Again. No, YUP! It's someone riding a horse. At midnight. In the streets. The streets of White Settlement, Texas, granted, but STILL. There's no place for horses near by. Not for a few miles, at least. And even then, midnight? in this neighborhood? practically a suburb of Fort Worth.

***Side Note: I know it's called White Settlement. I hate it along with half of the rest of White Settlement, if not the world. The name originated from the fact that this was, in fact, the first settlement of white folk into native american land crossing the Trinity River. There's a museum and everything. So, I assure you it's NOT as redneck as it sounds. Heck, we're getting more and more hispanics, blacks, and filippinos by the day. So, it's not racist. It's just... labeled correctly in a wrong era.***

So, I keep driving to Taco Bell. More perplexed then ever. There's these two HUGE trucks in front of me in line. I get the feeling they're going to take a while. They were talking to each other side by side when I first got there. I look in my rearview mirror and I see the horse again.

"I've always wanted to learn to ride a horse, I say."
Then it hits me. How often does one get an opportunity like this???

So, I drive out and head towards the horse and it's rider. I pull up right beside.
The lady rider screams out, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
"Uh... Nothing. I responded. Just wanted to say HI."
She approaches with her horse cautiously. "That all?"
"Well, I must admit, I've always kinda wanted to learn to ride a horse."
"Oh," she responds, "I was worried it was those guys that tried to shoot at us earlier."
"What? Seriously?"
"Oh, yeah! We've even gotten chased down before." she gets even closer to my passenger window. "If you want to pull around where you can park, so we can talk..."
"Allright. I'll meet you there in a sec!" I say.

At this point I'm thinking MAN! What a lucky break! How often does something like this happen!?
Little did I know...

I drive around to get into one the residential streets and park. I get out of my car as she gets closer to me with her horse. This is when things began to seem a little odder. Her horse was incredibly short. It wasn't quite a pony, but it sure as hell wasn't no regular lookin' horse.

"What's yer name?" she asked me.
"I'm Aldo, nice to meet you." I tell her as I shake her hand.
"Eldo?" she says.
"Aldo. It's like Waldo, but without the 'w'." I respond, much as I have countless others with a similar question.
"I'm Tabbitha. And this is Trixie." she says as she pats her horse.
She then slides down off her horse.
Now, I just felt like this was surreal.
She stood no taller than 4 feet 7 inches, I wanna guess. She had long natural dark blonde hair that reached well past her shoulders. She wore a long dark green coat and large thick glasses. And the way she spoke let me know she was texan and either not too well educated or educated enough not to give a damn how she spoke.
"That's weird! I've never had an adult wantin to learn to ride a horse!" She exclaimed with complete amusement and bewilderment. She then proceeded to tell me how long she's had the horse. How usually only 9 year olds or so show interest in learning to ride. That horses can get pretty tempermental about things and that's why she was out walking her; making sure she knew what each tug and such meant. Meanwhile, I'm standing outside in 30 degree weather with nothing but short sleeves. I asked her for her phone number so I could get in contact with her. She tells me she doesn't have a phone, but she stays in contact with a friend named "Dave" and gave me his phone number.

She then looked at me and asked, "Do you wanna hop on?"
"Right now?!" I asked in shock. Didn't I have to get to know the horse first or something? I mean, go to the movies, maybe a quiet dinner afterwards or something??? Seriously? Just 'Hop on it'?
"Uh... sure." I said. I didn't know what else TO say.
"Well, you gotta pet her first, though. Don't want to freak her out or nothin'."
There we go. That's what I thought. I knew it had to be harder than just that.
I pet the horse for a second. She talked to the horse. Amidst the things she said, one of them was, "Don't worry. We're almost home."

Wait. WHAT? Pardon?
What does she mean "almost home?"

"Where exactly do you live?" I asked.
"Oh, just up there at those apartments. She's lucky. She's the only one that gets a room of her own." she responds.

Wait. What? Huh? Did I hear...? Yup.
Well.
Allright...

I've been in theatre folks. I've had friends who enjoyed covering a car with stuffed rabbits and driving around. We would say things like "Chickenpot, chickenpot, chickenpot pie!" in public places for no reason. I know crazy. And if there's one thing I've learned...

..............When things get crazy, don't ask questions.................

You know why? Because it won't matter. It won't make sense. Alice in Wonderland ring any bells to anyone? I assure you. I know crazy.

"Oh, ok." I tell her in the most understanding and uncurious way possible.
"So, you ready to get on?" She asks.
"Actually, I'm going to have to say 'no'. But in all honesty, simply because I'm terribly cold."

I know many of you might believe that was a lie. I assure you it wasn't. I also assure I really don't have any questions. No, I'm not wondering all the thousands of questions one could be asking in a situation like this. I'm honestly at peace with the crazy.

I bid her a good night and a safe one at that. She did the same for me. I told her I'd be getting in contact with her and drove off as she rode off.

I then went to Taco Bell. I got my usual;
"Hi, I'd like a number 7, please, with a Baja Blast. Oh yes,... and Cheesy Gordita Crunch."

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In shambles is how I reside.

Metaphorically and otherwise. Don't get me wrong; I know where everything is. If I wanted something all I'd have to do is go look under things. I know exactly where. Thing is I often don't like to dig. Not recently anyways. I used to love it. You get that nostalgic feeling.
A picture here. A note there.
A memory here. A love there.
But things are different now. It's all just pain if I start to look. So I let things get buried and buried. Now it's just all piling up. I know I'll have to clean it. I know this won't be able to stay forever, but I'm having trouble. It's alot of pain. So I do it in small increments.

I've shared this story a few times since it's happened. I guess recently, though I've let alot of things stack on top of it. And as I start to dig I realize just how sad it all is. How sad I've made it. I don't know how to feel. I know part of me is upset. I don't know why.
So, as I'm digging in the recesses of my mind for the story that's now left my life in shambles, it's taking time. So, in a bit of time I will get it all straight. It's all just a bit buried. I'm even attempting to find all the music, just to have something auditory to go along with it.

Again, I must warn you it's long and it's not fun.

Maybe a day or so more.

It's just rough...

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