Dear Cadance,
This will be my finale letter to you. I have written and rewritten this countless times and I cannot take this anymore. The silence that I have received from you has been torturous as every letter I find at my door has not been from you. I don’t understand what has happened between us. You gave me strength, had me believe in myself and over come my self conscious doubts. You made me capable of looking at myself in the mirror and find a confident filly. One that knew she was loved by somepony in a way I’d only read about in your books you keep by your bedside. I have those books down stairs and I imagine I’m in your room again, studying with you pretending to read so you can through those silly faces at me as I try in vain to not laugh. But I end up crying instead. I love you,
Twilight breathed in, then slowly exhaled. Only to instantly regret, as memories of Canterlot burst from her mind and burn themselves onto her retinas. Reminders of pre and post test nerves, difficult social encounters, aftermaths embarrassing moments she wished she wasn’t part of. She had always been there, always. She may not have been there physically, but her method had stayed present and was always how she’d coped. But that hadn’t been true for a four months now. Why was there always a but?
but I can’t do this anymore. You’re not there. I’ve told you that you don’t always have to physically be there, but this feels worse than the month it took for me to tell you about how I felt. It’d probably only take one letter for you to dispel this darkness. That’s not happening though, is it? Not after my last letter where I was inebriated. You got my anger then and I still got nothing. So if you read this, if you’ve read any of them at all, know that I have five friends that will look after me, that will be there for me. I love you, but
Twilight brushed away the tears threating to stain her face. ‘I love you, but’. Why did those three special, beautiful words have to be tarnished by a conjunction meant to not only change those words, but cast doubt on their legitimacy. The most hurtful thing about it, was that Twilight could not say those three words without it being ruined by one.
this is goodbye. Not to never seeing or talking you or again, I’m not naive enough to think that we will not see each other eventually. This is goodbye to what we had.
Once yours, Twilight.
There, it was done. It had to be. There was no parchment left. Every previous attempt lay on the floor in different states. Most were crumpled up, some were torn up. One was soaked though with tears, she remember that being the second attempt. The first was set alight.
Looking to her side, and away from the litter, lay her escape plan. One full picnic basket to be shared amongst six ponies. And if remembered, a tea set brew with ginger and honey from Rarity and her favourite raspberry white chocolate cake from Pinkie. She would send the letter after talking to her friends. She felt bad that she would be taking up the conversation of what should be a happy afternoon with her friends and turning it into a confession and a sad reality. This was needed, she needed to get this out there and cry it out so she could move on.
Taking the basket into her magic hold. She left the Golden Oaks with Spike and Owloliscious asleep, gently closing the door.