Dust Yourself Off

You know what is so heart-lifting at the same time it crushes you so completely?

Heading to the Sage Camp Friday, I sit beside a woman and chatting with her between long periods of silence, as we'd never even seen each other before. All of the sudden, I get a text. I think it's from Jenni as I've been freaking out to her for the past hour and a half. But no. I see my barn's name. It's Terri.

(I keep it as the professional name for possible excuse purposes, if you wanted to know.)

I'm hit with what else I could be doing instead of heading to an unknown location and unknown everything. I could have asked to stay at her place. I could be at home now, alone for my parents would have headed down to the cottage.  I could be getting ready to muck out stalls the next day.

Why is Terri texting me? And here it is, word for word:

"Good luck with your weekend retreat! Hope it goes well!"

 And all I can think of now is how this person who isn't related to me, has no reason to care about where I am or what I'm doing or even how I am doing, does care. While my own flesh and blood don't honestly give a damn to know, and if they did, there would be war. Furthermore, Terri remembered. I talked to her about it all of twice, once two weeks ago, and once the week before that.

I felt lonely and grateful and wanted and hated all at once.

I said something like thanks and told her I was nervous, and she replied with:

"Don't be nervous just be your pleasant polite self!" [sic]

Which makes me a little more confident and happy because she knows what my parents say- pleasant and polite are the last words they'd use to describe me though I try so hard.

It broke me apart and held me together at the same time. Weird how that can happen, huh?