I’m sorry.
I knew you were talented. I knew you were skilled, and you knew I knew. And yet, I kept you from learning things which you were more than capable of learning. I would cite some plan, some half-formed idea or perhaps even the oncoming return of Nightmare Moon as reason why I held you back, but such things would mean little to you.
The truth was, I saw your talent, and you were suddenly the potential solution to all my problems. But you were ambitious, power-hungry and had the intelligence to accomplish whatever you put your mind to. I could see your pain. You so desperately wanted to fill the void in your life, so you filled it with whatever made the pain go away. Magic. Studying. Power.
I tried to mend the holes in your heart, hoping that by denying you the more powerful, the more dangerous spells would help you look inward, learn to stop hiding behind a wall of academic excellence and magical prowess. I tried to be a mother to you, when I should have been a princess. It is, unfortunately, a common weakness of mine.
I care much about all the ponies in Equestria, Sunset Shimmer. Looking back, I see what I did wrong. Perhaps you were fated to jump into the mirror. Perhaps you were not, and simply chose to. We shall never know. If I had taught you properly, taught you what you wanted to know, maybe it would have been you that faced down Nightmare Moon with the Elements of Harmony.
Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have been. I have been around for far too long to truly be able to say that there is such a thing as destiny, so I won’t claim that it was your fate to jump through the mirror, but I have found that things work out for the best no matter what I do.
I am deeply sorry for my mistake, Sunset. I was the wrong thing to you. I chose the wrong role in our relationship, but I saw the pain you were hiding, and all I could think of was my own sister, and how I could use you to save her, and maybe, in the process, save yourself from the darkness in your own soul.
Perhaps I will see you in thirty moons, and we shall have a chance to talk once more, not as princess and student, and certainly not as pseudo mother and daughter, but as equals, and maybe sort out our differences.
Then again, perhaps we will not. I shall leave the decision up to you, Sunset. You have the right to make your own choices. You always have, never forget that.
Yours,
Princess Celestia.