Over the following weeks and months, Cowboy and I trade letters back and forth. “My dearest Creativa,” he starts off the first one, “you’d love Lasso Lane down near the sholes. It’s a beautiful little town. I’m sending you a little gift every time we visit another place on tour, so keep your eyes on that mailbox. Yours always, Cowboy.” A few days later, the package arrived and I opened it with eagerness and excitement. Inside the box is a little wood carving with the town name in it along with our initials. How sweet! I immediately sit down and write him back.
“Dear Cowboy,” I write, “I love the gift so much! You’re so thoughtful and so sweet. I miss seeing you so much. I’ve been keeping busy hanging out with AJ and the girls and also working my job at the art school and art shop. It doesn’t change how much I miss you and long to see you again though! Yours forever, Creativa.” I send it out that afternoon. I then sit down when I hear a door open. Apple Bloom and Babs are back from school.
“How was school today?” I inquire.
“It was good, thanks,” responds Apple Bloom.
“It was fine, I guess,” responds Babs.
“Would you like to talk about it?” I ask.
“Sure, I guess,” shrugs the filly as she sits down at the table with me. Apple Bloom heads off to find her big sister.
“What happened? What’s going on? Are you okay?” I ask. “All you’re going through, I know how it feels.”
She breaks down in tears. “Honestly, I’m not alright,” responds Babs, “I don’t want momma and daddy to divorce. I don’t wanna live with only one parent. I’m scared. I’m so scared. Do they still love me? I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like they do. I don’t understand. Why don’t they love each other? Why can’t they just get along? I don’t want to go back to Manehattan but I don’t want to leave here either. AJ and Apple Bloom are like sisters to me. I’m so grateful that they’re letting me stay here. I just want everything to be alright.” I hug her as she continues to cry, tears steaming down her face. “I just want things to go back to normal.”
“I know,” I respond, “my siblings and I were the same way. Alas, before our parents could make amends, daddy took his own life.” I begin to cry. “I was such a daddy’s girl. I miss him so much, everyday. I push through though the best I can and I know you have the strength to do the same. At the same time, know it’s alright to break down and cry. It’s necessary. It’s oh so necessary.” I begin to tear up myself. “Just know it’s healthy to cry. Right now, especially, when you need it most.” Babs thanks me and I help her upstairs to her room and we continue to talk for another few minutes before she finally asks to be left alone. I nod and return back downstairs and get back to writing my Cowboy. It’s been a long day, but at least, Babs is finally opening up to me. I’m glad I can at least be helpful to someone today. Now if only I could find some way to see my Cowboy sooner than a year from now.