Dear Applejack

by Captain of the Guard

Irony

The work tired mare, whose thoughts as of late had been utterly consumed by her parents, entered her room with a relieved sigh. She shut one eye tight, grimacing, the other peering to her bed, in fearful anticipation. Another letter, but she did not know if she could read it. She opened it, but was so afraid to continue. Swallowing a heavy embodiment of fear that hung in her throat, she read.

Dear Applejack,

I miss your mother so much. I know I’ll be joining her soon, but I cannot help but watch as all the memories of our love play like some grand masterpiece of an artist that I do not understand. I do not mean to sound cryptic, but I cannot explain what losing her is like in any terms that even I myself entirely understand. There was so much that I wanted to say to her, but there was no time. The irony is that there was so much time, so many years that I could have said that. I know that I told you to enjoy the silence, dear, but sometimes you must say what is to be said, and what follows may break you. That, perhaps, is why I didn’t say anything other than goodbye. Because I was afraid it would break me.

I wanted to tell her that I was in love again. That the soul of our unity, which died long ago, had found life again. What if she did not love me? What if the love I found for her ran a one way course? I could not bear to hear her say that she would never love me again, and even now my speculations drive me to the verge of sanity. The peace that awaits me beyond life will be enough to quell this desire to see her again, I hope so desperately. If only I could have just a moment with her, one moment to tell her that I truly love her, as I did long ago. I would have my heart broken, most likely.

I understand why ponies fear death. Why they fear the end. I didn’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I want to be with my family again. I want to feel the sun and the wind, I want to hold you and your mother and tell you that I love you and that I will never let go. I let go, Applejack. I let go because I was not strong enough. I want to be strong enough, to hold you forever. There is no forever, is there? I’m afraid, Applejack. I miss your mother.

Those words struck Applejack’s heart with a weight so strong, forcing the lump of sorrow in her throat, and tears from her eyes. It broke her heart to read these, and she didn’t want to continue. She had to.

I would tell her, as I held her in my arms, that you loved her with all your heart and that she was the perfect mare. So perfect, and all these years I had forgotten. There is no greater reminder of what is beautiful than death, and perhaps that is the beauty that lies in death so cryptically hidden, that when you find it, the time to depart has arrived, the irony. I hate irony, I think. If your mother were here she would take my hoof, and brush her head against mine. She would take away this fear, Applejack. Your mother was so brave, so brave. I miss her so much. I want to hold her, dear. I want to hold her and she’s gone. I would endure the most horrendous and destructive of tortures for eternity to spend but a moment with my family. I love you, and don’t ever let go of that. Don’t ever let go of me, because I am not strong enough to hold on, and I would drift away, more lost than I already am.

I would look your mother in the eye, those beautiful orbs staring calmly and warmly into me, orange, the sunlight in her eyes. I would tell her that I am sorry. So sorry. The regret is burning in my chest and gut. The guilt is eating me, and I feel the humanity rotting to emptiness. I would cry, like a fool I would cry, and beg and beg for forgiveness. She would lift my chin, and tell me that everything was alright. I destroyed us. I destroyed everything I was, and now I walk into oblivion, my final resting. I do not deserve the peace that awaits me, do I? I destroyed us. I did.

I miss her so much, Applejack. I can almost feel her hooves in mine. The sun mocks me, imitating her eyes with imperfect grace. Nothing will ever compare to the love that I hold for you and my family. I wasted every year of it, and I was the most foolish and worthless pony for doing so. I love you Applejack, my angel. I love you. You are a beautiful pony, and you are everything that your mother and I ever saw in you, and so, so much more. The Apple family’s greatest mark on Equestria, and the legacy that I do not deserve at all, is my children. I love you all so much. So hold on to me, sweet daughter, until there is nothing to hold onto but my memory. I love you.

Your father

Tears, unceasing. Choking breaths, bursts of mourning grief, blurred vision behind the weeping sorrow. Applejack could not even open her eyes, she wanted to throw up. The sorrow sat in her gut, festering and crawling to every inch of her, tearing her apart like a malign force. Yet there was some strange comfort in the pain, again and again her father’s voice rang in her heart, “I love you.” Applejack tried to speak, tried to tell him that she loved, him, but choked on every breath. Her weeping did not cease, audible and torrenting tears that puddled into the wood below her as she shut her eyes tight, hoping to find solace in the temporary halt in time. Finally, as she struggled to breathe, “I love you.” Before breaking into another cry.

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