It's snowing in the streets of Canterlot. I'm walking under the flakes, on my own, my mind at peace. There's a tranquility, a peculiar serenity that I really love about winter. It's my favorite season, along with Spring, because cold has something soft and mellow that I just can't explain. I like the sound of my steps creaking in the snow, it's so comforting.
After my discussion with Filthy Rich, I've decided to take a short walk. Not for shopping, only for the pleasure of a stroll in the streets. Hearth Warming decorations are lighting up the city, people are in a hurry, with bags in their arms, struggling against the cold while I'm walking, slowly, breathing out.
Quietness... I've forgotten what it was like after I've been a companion to anger for so long. This year, I'll be with Soarin for Hearth Warming and all my family. They will finally meet him and even that doesn't make me feel nervous. Days where we were parted aren't that old yet when I turn back, it feels like it dates back to centuries.
My story can now resume its course. It's nothing like a screwball comedy or even a rom-com. It can't be that because it isn't anybody else's story. It's mine, written by the hands of choices. So, even if that's a little sappy at times, at other times it's crazy or outlandish or excited, even if it's full of flaws, injustices and sparkled with pain, my story is precious to me, and even beautiful. This is why I swear I'm going to cherish it, with its pits and bumps, with its cracks and its grace, in its least small details.
"Traces of the steps I leave behind me
Are distorted and muddy
But I don't regret a single one
I'm proud of them from the bottom of my heart"
Ayumi Hamasaki