I sat down with some girl friends recently to eat Indian food in the village when the conversation shifted. With deep concern in their eyes they asked me how I was, whether I had spoken with Jackson, and if I could soon imagine myself getting back on that horse. I know that was what they really wanted the answer to. I just wasn’t sure how to answer. Do I tell them what I think they want to hear (that I dug out my cougar-wear from the closet and am ready to paint the town red?) or the bitter truth (that I slip into a sad place from time to time and lose minutes of the day staring into space)? I decided to go with the truth. I love these girls and they’d know it if I were lying through my teeth. [Read more...]