Looking back, I have no real regrets. Questions, maybe. I could have had a family. I could have been less focused on impressing you. I could have spent less time reading and more time with my friends. All that learning is going to die with me now anyway. Maybe I could have even been a little ... crazier in my youth. I didn’t know that was a one-time opportunity.
But the thing that bothers me most isn’t a regret. Because I know I’d do it again.
When I used to live in Ponyville, we had a mail-mare who was ... eccentric.
Oh, Celestia, that’s a stupid excuse. I was more eccentric than she was.
She was sweet, okay? I liked her. Everypony liked her, I think. I just liked her in small doses.
I mean, that mare was a walking disaster area. Like the time she destroyed half of town hall by accident while trying to fix it. Come to think of it, I don’t recall ever seeing her again after that. Hard to imagine somepony could disappear, in a town as small as Ponyville, without there being talk.
I hope she’s happy, wherever she is.
I know this is the part where I’m supposed to regret not trying harder to be her friend, and give some lesson on how we can learn something from everypony. Sure, you can learn something from everypony, if you listen long enough. But I barely had enough time for the friends I had! The friends I enjoyed being with.
I think I can honestly say I never learned anything from Derpy.
I had my own life to live. I had my own problems. I wasn’t as happy as I pretended to be. I needed my friends. I needed to write those letters to you, fatuous as they seem now. I needed to grab onto anything that would make my life more meaningful, more ... noticeable. The older I got, the more I needed it; and the less time there was for anything that didn’t help me feel better. The last thing I needed, when I was struggling every minute to stay afloat in a sea of despair, was to have my ear talked off for half an hour by somepony I couldn’t even understand half the time.
What? No, Pinkie Pie was different. Though it is funny, now that you point it out. Talking to Pinkie made me feel better, even when I had no idea what she was talking about. Talking to Derpy just made me sad. Or irritated.
There are only so many things to say about muffins!
So I avoided her. I memorized her route and schedule. I don’t mean I was like a, an un-stalker. But I knew that, if I went to Sugarcube Corner between 2 and 3pm, there was risk of Derpy.
Oh, come on. She dropped a piano on me. I think anypony can be excused for avoiding somepony who dropped a piano on them. That’s just classical conditioning.
Pinkie Pie never avoided Derpy. She loved talking to Derpy as much as she enjoyed talking to anypony. She was indiscriminate. And Fluttershy, of course. To somepony who spent the morning talking with rabbits and chickens, Derpy probably seemed like a stellar conversationalist.
Did that sound condescending? I guess it was.
Truth is, I always thought I was a little bit better than my friends. You can probably relate to that.
I had to do things. You invested a lot of time in me. I had to honor that. And I had to honor the gifts I was given. Ponies need somepony who can figure out how to grade a track so the train doesn’t fall off, or how filling in a bog to eliminate mosquitoes will affect the apple harvest. Or when Nightmare Moon is coming back from her thousand-year exile. I saved that town! Several times! So don’t tell me it wasn’t worth it. I had to know things. I didn’t know ahead of time what I’d need to know. So I had to know as much as I possibly could.
I couldn’t let myself be the kind of pony who could take pleasure in ... just ... being with somepony else, somepony who wasn’t helping me along that path. I didn’t have that luxury. Rarity would have understood. So would Applejack. Heck, Rainbow Dash would probably have understood.
Stop looking at me like that. I didn’t do it for me. Do you think it was fun? Toiling late into the night, every night, on things whose importance was so subtle that other ponies would have simply laughed at me even if I’d been able to explain to them what I was doing?
Maybe it was a little fun.
But I could have had lovers. I was famous, you know. I could have had foals. They’d be here with me, now. I gave that up. For you. For everypony.
I hope it was worth it.
What? You’re really going to let me off that easy?
I know you tried to warn me. Time and time again. “Twilight, make some friends. Twilight, don’t spend all day indoors.” I’m not blaming you. Okay, maybe I was blaming you.
Maybe I did do it all for myself. I thought that if I did something amazing, ponies would like me.
I never did "make" any friends. I just took the friendships that were offered me, for reasons I never understood. I was never exciting or cool. I could never make anypony feel better just by talking to them. All I had to offer was braininess, but that wasn't what they wanted.
I was Derpy all along.
I was better than them. But they were better ponies than me. Why did they give me their friendship? Did I do anything more for them than Derpy did for me? Did I do anything more for you?
I never understood friendship at all.
But I tried. I tried very hard.
Please tell me I’m not a bad pony.