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// Page 30 
// Story: Broken Bindings 
// by anonpencil 
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I only had a few friends when I was young, and one of them was my little brother. We would laugh and play for hours, and we'd tell each other everything. He looked up to me but, in a way, I really looked up to him more. He had this sort of eternal joy, a lack of fear, especially about letting others down. He lived his life for his own purposes and joy and means. It made him selfish at times, but I sometimes wished I could be more selfish too. I was the one who had the nightmares that would wake me up in fear of the darkness in my room, and it was him who would come in with a wooden stick he called a sword to "banish" the darkness back to where it could not get me. 

He was so small, but he never knew it, I think. I truly believe he never had any idea he was so little, and instead believed he was as big and as strong as any beast in the woods. He believed he was invincible. But he was wrong.

I miss him terribly. I haven't stopped missing him terribly since he went away all those years ago. And when he left, it seemed to start this chain of motion that led to everyone I grew close to, everyone I cared about, leaving me. I let them all down.

First was my parents. I left home when I couldn't be the daughter I wanted to be. And when I couldn't be enough for them. I tried to honor them in all I did, but I know it wasn't enough. But I swear to you, I did try. But I knew how disappointed they were with me, even if they didn't say it. I could see it in their faces. They didn't speak to me, didn't embrace me, didn't tell me it was all okay. They just vanished out of my life like a snuffed candle flame. Not even smoke left behind.

My closest friend stopped coming over or playing with me after she hurt her leg. Even though she'd hurt herself playing near her own home, there had been so many bad stories about what happened in the woods by my house, and there was... the way I'd responded to her injury. When her parents came running to the yard, hearing her scream, they'd found me with her. I'd put my hoof over her mouth to stop the screaming, and I was reaching for the broken leg with my other hoof. From their point of view, I can understand why they would want me to stay away and what all that looked like. I was trying to help, though, trying to think of some way to fix it. I just couldn't think straight with all that screaming. And she didn't stop, even when I asked nicely, so I had to quiet her down until I could find a way to make everything alright again. I only barely touched the wound, anyway.

Once more I failed, and once more I lost someone dear to me.

When I moved to the outskirts of Canterlot, I only made a few friends, but at that point, I wasn't very comfortable having anyone over to my home. Perhaps it seemed like I was pushing everyone away, trying to be alone. I admit, some of the time I was, but I never wanted to be alone all the time. It was convenient, yes, but I would have liked to get to know some of them better. But every time I began to seek out some companionship, they'd eventually just drift away from me. They'd have better friends, people who knew how to show their care more effectively. People who understood how to express wants, needs, joy, who knew how to smile when they were happy. I know I wasn't the best at any of those, but it still hurt to find that they'd made a graceful, quiet exit from my life when I wasn't paying close enough attention.

After all that, I was eventually left alone here, in this book. Abandoned once more by someone I trusted and turned to for help. It was a series of attempts and failures, over and over again, and it seemed I might eventually get used to it. 


Instead I just built up this reservoir of fear and doubt. If I don't hold it steady, it overflows and spills, and others can see exactly how much anxiety I've poured into that reservoir over the years. And I'm left with this thing I am now. Constantly afraid of being alone, constantly being alone, like a self-creating cycle.

And then, the story had to change when you came along. I'm not alone now. And the fear is beginning to slip away again.

I feel so much more powerful when I'm not afraid.