Galloping Day

My sense of euphoria.
My interpretation of complete liberty.
My obsession.
It's kind of like letting your hair down and taking your make-up off.
It's like driving with the windows down, singing at the top of your lungs. 
It's like getting pulled-over by a police car for the first time.
It's like having an intimate conversation with your crush.
It's like running through the rain and mud with lightning flashing all around you.
 It's like letting go of childhood pain and moving forward with forgiveness.
Uninhibited.
Freeing.
Terrifying.
Enrapturing.
Frightening.
Releasing...
There is a moment,
while my thoroughbred is cantering,
that I decide
to let go,
to allow my horse to run without any restrictions.
Initially, there is an adrenaline rush, elevating through my veins and draining out the pours of my skin.
Hooves drumming beneath me.
Deafening wind blasting past my ears.
Then, I wonder, will I be able to bring him down?
My arms pull.
My heels sink deep.
My speed is unimpressed.
I continue fatalistically galloping, deciding to at least savor my demise.
Promptly approaching the end of the grassy pathway,
I try once more to shorten our stride.
I stand up, lean back, and I pull with every trace of muscle I possess.
He reluctantly slows to a walk.
Then we turn around,
walk back,
and do it again...