The Millionth Try
You know wanna know something funny?
I actually went for a walk today. I know, right? Me? Walking? I can just see you laughing at me, teasing me about whether or not my wings are broken. Well, they aren't, so ha! I even walked over to check on the animals today. Angel looks healthy, but I can tell he’s super bored these days. Same goes for all the animals, actually; what kind of an institution are you keeping over there? It’s like a ghost town or something. I’m just kidding. Kind of. I know it’s not really your fault, but... oh, whatever. I’m sorry for rambling on and on, but I’m writing this in pen, so you’ll just have to deal with it! It’s kind of embarrassing to talk about anyway; I was never exactly one to stop and smell the flowers. Of course, I bet you knew all that. You were always good at reading me. Truth be told, I always thought it was really annoying... maybe I wouldn’t mind so much now. Anyway, I guess this is supposed to be a letter or whatever, so maybe I shouldn’t get too off-track. Twilight says I’m supposed to open up with “Dear Whoever,” but she’s an egghead. When you write a letter, it’s supposed to reflect who you are, right? I’m not an egghead. Twi can go ahead and write all the egghead letters she wants. I, on the other hoof, am awesome, so I’m gonna write a very awesome, egghead-free letter, thanks very much. Well, here goes.
Things at home have been pretty boring. Well, I guess you wouldn’t think they were boring. You’d probably stare all googly-eyed at the sunrise and stuff. By the way, how do you get up so early for those kinda things? Do you even need sleep? I can barely manage to keep it to ten hours without wanting to kill everypony when I wake up. How do you do wake up and wanna give all of Equestria a freaking hug? You’re like some kind of wizard. Maybe you’re Princess Celestia in disguise. Whatever, I’m bad at jokes. It’s two o’clock in the morning and I’m already on my millionth try at writing this. Get Pinkie Pie to write you if you want something funny.
Oh yeah, did I tell you? Well, I guess not, considering this is a letter and I haven’t ever written you before, but oh, well; I’ll just tell you now. You remember that Cheese Sandwich guy that came through town a couple months back, right? He and Pinkie were keeping in touch through letters, too, and those two are a couple now. If you can believe it, I was actually the first one who found his, uh, “confession.” I’m still not sure how, but he wrote, “Pinkie, will you be the cupcake to my sandwich?” on a cloud in silly string. On a cloud. In silly string. I’m trying to wrap my head around it, but they’re a happy couple now. That’s all well and good I guess; we should be happy for our friends, too, but things in town have been... interesting. Imagine if Pinkie Pie multiplied. Well, OK, that shouldn't be hard to imagine because that literally happened not even a year ago. Sometimes I think what would happen if those two entered that pool thing together. I got a migraine just thinking about it. Ponyville would be in ruins before sunrise! Staring at paint only works so many times.
AJ’s still doing well. That Trenderhoof guy keeps sending her photos of himself with flowers. Well, more like selfies and sometimes a flower peeks into frame. She keeps stuffing them into Rarity’s mailbox, and our generous fashionista has gone full-blown nutjob over it. Element of Honesty my flank! Where’s the brutal truth-laying AJ from that time we went to Manehattan? Maybe Discord flicked her in the head again. Was that funny? I guess if I have to ask, then it’s not, but I kinda thought it was. Anyway, the Apple family seems to be doing fine, I guess. Cider season came again, and I finally got to have a glass! I figured it out; if I camped in a tree next the entrance of the farm for a week and didn’t move, I’d be first in line! It was totally worth the turned up noses and whispering about the fact that I smelled like a bear's plot behind my back. Those fillies were just jealous ‘cause I was first in line for cider. Haters gonna hate; I got my drink on that day. There was something a bit different in this season’s batch, though. I felt like something should’ve been added. I’m not really sure what, but I couldn’t help feeling like something was missing. I got used to it after a while. I think.
I mentioned Twilight earlier, and she and Spike are doing fine. He hit a growth spurt again; He’s about eye-level with Twilight, now. I know you’d flip if you could see him. You’d do that adorable little surprised gasp and be all over him with measuring tape and dieting advice. It’d be pretty funny to watch, if I’m being perfectly honest. It was always a laugh making fun of you for that stuff. I can see Spike’s face, too; he'd definitely all bored-looking and with that I’m-so-done-with-this attitude. You’d apologize over and over again and I’d be laughing so hard; heck, I’m chuckling now. That’s one of the things I like about you. You’re always so darn kind to everypony.
Anyway, Princess Egghead herself is doing alright. She’s about to enter Princess School, which I had no idea was actually a thing until about a week ago. Apparently she’s gotta go learn about economics and military strategies and other things that make me want to bang my head against a wall. She’s taking it about as well as she takes any sort of responsibility she’s given, so naturally she’s completely lost her mind. No Smartypants incident this time, but I fear a complete mental breakdown incoming. So did Rarity, apparently; Miss Element o’ Generosity is taking Twi to the spa what feels like every single day in order to calm her down. It’s kinda funny to watch Rarity throw mud at her face every time she starts to act up. I think that’s how I’ll start solving all my problems, too. Other than all that, though, we’re all ecstatic for her. I hope she doesn't have to leave Ponyville for long; the rest of the gang has actually considered moving with her wherever she ends up, but I doubt that’ll actually happen. Change is inevitable, right? We all have to learn to deal with things as they come, right?
I guess I should talk about me, huh? Truth is, I’m doing great! I said that it’s kinda boring here, but now that I think about it things are actually pretty lively! I didn’t wanna make you feel left out, I guess. Everyone else seems to be down in the dumps, but I couldn’t be more in the zone! I’ve doubled up on training and improved my speed and form ten-fold! The Wonderbolts sent me a letter the other day inviting me to go and train with them before their big welcome ceremony for the new recruits! I’ve started coaching Ponyville’s Young Fliers for the upcoming competition, I’m working on a new routine for this year’s Grand Galloping Gala, Daring Do came by to swap ideas for a new book, and I’ve totally gotten over the fact that you're dead! Actually, I don’t think I even needed to go to the funeral. I don’t need to think about it anymore, because I’m totally ok! I’m so great! Perfect, even! People come over to talk on and on about how it’s ok to be sad about it or whatever, but what are they even doing in my house? I totally don’t feel the same way they do, and I know they’re joking anyway! I don’t need to cry when I go to the spot where you fell to your death and snapped your neck. I can even go back there whenever I want! I stared at the exact spot for like 12 hours yesterday without crying!
That’s it! I’ll check you later, Fluttershy!
I have tried everything. I've burned all the other copies. I've blacked out all the lies I told. They say if you use pen, it makes you think more about your words before you write them. What a bunch of bullshit that it is. I wrote this a week ago in pen and I didn't think about shit. I don’t think anymore. I've crumpled this up, thrown it out the window, and gone back to get it a total of five-hundred sixty-eight times tonight. I know. I fucking counted. I fucking counted every single fucking time. You know what’s even better? I heard the knock. I heard it. I fucking heard it. Four knocks, that’s what you do. You always knock four times. Always in the same spot. Always in the same spot. Well, now you are literally always in the same fucking spot. My favorite hobby these days is to go up to you and tell you how worthless I think you are. I totally don’t need you to be happy. I’m super fucking happy. You think you make any difference? You think being in our friends’ and my backyard six feet under makes any difference? You think watching my friends scramble to hug your ugly FUCKING corpse dragging the funeral on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on as they lower you into the ground YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU I NEVER DID. You can keep your worthless walks in the park your kisses your hugs your support your smile your kind words your touch your laugh your breakups your makeups your misunderstandings your cute frustration your secret strength your knowledge of me your dreams your goals your work ethic your pets your friendship your annoying ways your confession your first date your vegetarianism your hatred of dragons your not paying attention your if-only-you’d-just-looked-where-you-were-going your twisted vine your snapped neck your recovered body your identifier your black dresses your graveyards your eulogies your love, your love, your love, your love, your love, your love, your love
I love you. I love you so much. Please, come back. I’ll do anything. You want it in blood so I’m serious? Whatever it takes to please you. You’re not gone. It was a dream. We have a date, remember? Saturday at six. I’ll be late, like usual. Remember to scold me. I’ll ignore you and kiss you and we’ll have fun. You’ll cook that vegetable soup that makes me want to buy a ring and propose for you. We’ll be fine. Couples endure, right? Love always endures. That’s the stupid shit Rarity told me and I hate being mushy. I fucking hate the sweet-talk but if love is about sacrifice and I use mushy talk then you have to come back. I’ll see you soon so soon I’ll see you soon, Ok? Ok?
I realize now that this letter is the only thing I should leave with you. I don’t want you to see this, but if you don’t know how I’ve really been feeling then nothing is going to change. I have a picture of you that I framed above the dresser and a letter you wrote me once on Hearts and Hooves Day, and that’s all I’ll need for now. The rest is boxed up, in the attic. I’ll get to it someday. The pony from the clinic came over yesterday and told me that it’s alright to take baby steps. I think I’ll do that. I’m sorry for those things I said, really. Also, sorry for the tear-stains. I was kinda thinking that maybe it’ll help you better understand. Part of me still believes that you’re not dead. Do you know how much time it took me to write that word now that I understand what it means? This paragraph has taken four days so far. They say that’s still progress. I sure hope so. I’m all sweaty and my heartbeat is irregular. They say that’s also normal, and I think that’s kinda funny. Don’t worry, not in the crazy-mental-hospital way. I’m over that now, I think. Is it ok if I use cliches now? The pony from the clinic said it was ok as long as it’s how I really feel.
You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I was so high, all the time, off of the atmosphere that you gave me. It was like breathing pure oxygen. There was literally nothing I couldn't do. I pushed hard, trained hard. I wanted you to see me win. I wanted you to see me strong. I guess it’s ok now that I’m not. I feel like such an idiot, though, walking around my own house, judging the goodness of things by what the clinicians would think. They say I’ll get over that, too, though. I hope so. I wanna get back into flying. I wanna feel the wind scrape my face. Maybe that’s you cheering me on. Yeah. I’d like to think that.
Is it alright if I don’t say goodbye yet? I don’t think that’s what I need right now. I want you to watch over me for a while, make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Sometimes I feel like you are, but then I get scared I’m losing it, so... make sure I don’t lose it? You were always the responsible one.
I guess I’ll say it then.
I’ll see you again someday. We can go for a walk in the woods, or fly above them. Sounds kinda boring, but maybe if you’re there, it’d be kinda nice.
I love you, Fluttershy, and I think, now at least, that I’ll be alright.
Now and Always,
Rainbow Dash
P.S. Angel started eating his greens again.