Rock Bottom

You know hit rock bottom when you scroll through your phone and there is not one single person you could call to hang out with at the social event of the season. I walked around the fair with some of the younger girls who ride at the barn.

You know you hit rock bottom when there is no one there to wipe your boots, hold your horse, or cheer you on the rail on one of the best days of your life. My trainer and barn friends don't count.

You know you hit rock bottom when you walk around the fair, and have to control yourself from crying every time you pass a place that you "made a memory" with your ex-- the grass in front of the grandstand where you danced to "your song" while Lonestar played it for you live, the midway where we went on the Tilt-a-whirl. The First Aid booth that your ex worked at during the fair. The empty place at the rail where he would have been smiling, making you relax as you came around the ring.

You know you hit rock bottom when what should have been the best day of the year, the day you showed and was in the ribbons with your horse, you cry all the way home because you miss him so much.

You know you hit rock bottom when you have no desire to meet or date anyone else because there is this huge cavernous hole where your heart is. 

You know you hit rock bottom when your ex "fuck buddy," who you had the most amazing sex with, propositions you and you decline because you just don't feel like dealing with another guy's bullshit. And you still feel like you are "with" someone, and therefore not free to date.

In a mopey mood. Will update about the fair tomorrow.