Daisy. It’s the name I’ve given to my Snowhorse*.
You could say that the relationship between Daisy and I started on the wrong foot. It seems that my satorial sense is not in line with what she finds appropriate, so the bunny ears I’d chosen gave her fits, and the orange ribbon wasn’t to her liking. What’s worse, I’m not one for swedish fish - her favorite treat, and she showed no interest in my love for yodelling (or anything I have interest in, now that I think about it).
It’s also true to say that while I’m familiar with snowboarding, I’m more aware of it as a concept, rather than in practice, so you may describe my capabilities as novice at best. Being that I was the one in charge of guiding Daisy down the mountain, she was the one who bore the brunt of my learning curve.
As time went on, we took baby steps towards improvement. I found that she responded more positively to a top hat and turquoise ribbon. My skill and confidence snowboarding grew - albeit slowly - seemingly through osmosis. Not only were we able to reduce our mistakes, but increase our pace.
I slowly began to realize that Daisy was more capable that I had originally understood. I had been holding her back; preventing her from realizing her true capabilities for sharp, exclamatory movements combined with graceful twists and twirls through the air, like a ballerina.
We had finally made a flawless run to the bottom of the hill, and at once, we realized that our tandem was made in the heavens.
At least, that’s what we thought.
Daisy is a free spirit who loves snowboarding, the beach, and wants to experience any and everything. She aspired to greater heights; heights that she saw in the challenge that was the North Slopes.
I was weary of the challenge, looking to enjoy the mountains rather than challenge them.
This gap between us only continued to widen with time. While we continued to enjoy our time together on the Bunny Slopes, I could sense her desire to leave. So we tried the North Slopes, but to no avail. I knew that my limited capabilities were holding Daisy back. Instead of standing in her way, I told her to go. I knew this meant she would have another partner, and while it broke my heart, it’s what was best for her.
She still comes to the Bunny Slopes from time to time to board and share some tacos, and I’m always there to cheer her on during competitions, but we both know that things can never be as they were.
We can never be as we were.