Separation

by Uncr3at1ve


Separation

Five days. Five days since I’ve seen her, five days of doing the same thing day after day. Wake up, manage the library, stare out of the window, then cry myself to sleep. With all that I still have to take care of the animals; feeding, nursing, negotiation, all must be done. Now, it feels like I lost a part of myself as day in day out I can no longer enjoy the sun on my face or a gentle breeze through my feathers. My world just seems empty without her by my side.

It matters not that I’ll see her again, or that she misses me just as much, she told me as much when she left. All I know is the emptiness around me; the void that nothing can fill. My thoughts are consumed by her visage, the deep purple of her eyes, the lavender of her coat; I want nothing more than to see her again.

Whenever I read I instinctively call out her name, only to be met with silence that has become my life. I’ve often considered just dropping everything and joining her, but that would just leave other problems. Separation is healthy others say, but for her to be so far away is torture, to know the difficulty in joining her once more.

Tears come to my eyes as I stare vacantly through the window, towards the clouds that must hide that which I love; the twilight. Once more I go to bed, to cry away my sorrows.


I think I feel now, how she feels when flying, so lightweight, carefree. Staring down, all the worries of the past weeks melt away. Clouds really are one of the softest things I've ever had the pleasure to lay down on, although even they cannot compare to the feathery embrace of my love; to see and feel her warm body against my own… I do say I might have an addiction.

My thoughts wept at the prospect of being parted from her, even if it was a necessity. If I cannot learn to control my urges Equestria could collapse into turmoil. The paparazzi already seek out any and all stories that can be spun into a negative light, yet still the one urge I cannot quell is to be by her side and talk softly, long into the night.

I never want to get used to these long stretches of solitude, I had enough of that when I was young. If I must spend much longer away, I fear I may do something rash. Not that it would matter; any mistake I make could be easily fixed barring any unfortunate accidents. My mind and spirit can take no more; when this is over I will never make the mistake of leaving her again.


Once more I wake, an empty bed greeting me. I cannot say I will ever get used to this feeling of solitude that stems from her long absence. Sure, everyone is supportive; a free pastry here, a few apples there. It all makes the passing time more bearable as, for a moment, I forget the pain. The relief never lasts long though, and then the sorrow returns tenfold, as if taunting me with its malevolence.

When this all ends, this will be a passing memory, a dark mark on the joy of all my time spent with her. If there ever comes a time when I must repeat this experience I fear that I would not be able to last until the time of her return. If such a time comes I’ll be sure to never again let her leave me for so long.


I sit in what has become a daily ritual of mine, simply lying on a cloud and staring down at Ponyville, looking, wondering, weighing responsibility against desire. The advice given to me was, expectedly, giving the situation, vague and lackluster. No contact with the outside world as I learn secrets only a princess can know, secrets that I could not even share with her, she’ll understand though I fear that those secrets will still cause her pain and mistrust. She knew as much as I did how hard it would be, how painful, heart-wrenching. There will never be a time again of separation until a time far beyond the scope of worry.

There is little time left in my training, soon I will return to her, to my love. Return to the mare that means more to me than myself, the mare I would do anything in my power to relieve any suffering of hers. If my presence cannot protect her I hope my influence can. I cannot bear to see her, in anyway, uncomfortable or in pain.

One more week, one more week until I can finally return, free of my current obligations to see her, to hold her close and never let go. I cannot contain my excitement, though the secrets will be a burden it will be a necessary burden, for Equestria’s safety.


This week passed slower than any of the past eight months, the pressing knowledge of her return holds onto the forefront of my mind and refuses to leave. There is room for no other thought as all is consumed by the urge to run to her, to spend all day simply waiting at the train station, to simply do anything besides sit here and do nothing. She is coming tonight, it is refreshing yet painful, as if all my impatience, all of my desire has built up for the past eight months and has now decided to release and cause me to want nothing more than to see her, to be unable to do anything other than wait for tonight.

Everything is prepared, already was prepared several hours ago, for her arrival. In just a few minutes I will be able to walk to the train station and see her, to end this terrible chapter of our lives and begin to go back to the way things were. Back to quiet nights in each other’s embrace, and peaceful walks with my wing draped over her back. Those memories mean more to me than anything, simply remembering draws heat to my face as I recall the warmth shared between our bodies, the soft embrace of our coats rubbing and intertwining with each other.

Even those memories are irrelevant, why reminisce when there will be more made in just a few hours; though these hours are unprecedented in their length, my smile reaches beyond that which can be considered normal. As I wait my mind fills once more with those sweet memories.


The landscape passes by quickly beneath the window of the train, swiftly bringing me closer to my love, closer to a new life filled with joy and simplicity. I cannot contain my joy at the thought of being able to lie down next to her and listen endlessly to her softly spoken voice.

My freedom from monotony is welcome, yes, but my freedom to be beside her and relish in her presence once more is greater than any relief I may feel. Through my saddlebags I can feel the one thing that will end any chance of being separated from her; she just has to say yes.

As the train pulls into the station I search for that lovely primrose mare whose presence I can no longer be without. But before I can even take more than a few steps I end up being tackled into a hug by that which I seek. Few words are spoken, our being together worth far more than speaking as we walk slowly to the library. To my surprise she has dinner all ready laid out at the table, ready to eat, I always did enjoy her cooking.

The night passed swiftly, dinner was as amazing as it always was, even more so from my long absence. What follows is what I’d been missing for so long, a quiet night spent reveling in each other’s presence, soft words being spoken, assurances, apologies, promises. Though the best moment of the night for me, is when I worked up the courage to finally ask her: Will you marry me? The answer was sealed with a kiss and tears of joy.