The Day of Endless Writing

by Bootsy Slickmane

14: Solstice [Sad]

She's staring out the window again. She does that a lot, in the summer. I know she misses the ocean, though she's never admitted it. When I ask if she feels alone here on the land, she just says, "If I have you, I'm right at home." It warms my heart, but I can still see the pain in her eyes even as she says it. She misses the ocean. She misses all those she knew there.

It's only natural to miss your place of origin. I miss my hometown. I even visit it sometimes. She never returns to her own, though. She says that she doesn't feel like going back, but I think we both know the real reason. We both know that if she ever did go back, she'd probably never return. We both know that she made a mistake coming out here with me. We may have our good times, but those good times only mean so much. She's not meant to be out here, and we both know it, despite our shared silence on the matter.

Sometimes I wonder if she really should go back to her own kind in the sea. I'm sure they miss her as much as any friend would. I'm sure they'd be happy to take her back. Most of them never liked me, anyway. They didn't say it, but their attitude was clear. None of them wanted her to go. But she told them that she loved me, and that was all she would need here on land. Love is a powerful thing, but I'm afraid it hasn't been enough.

Don't you dare think for an instant that it's not for lack of trying. I love her, maybe more than she loves me. I try to keep her happy. I did the best that I could to help her in any way possible when she first came here onto the land. I carried her on my back when we had to travel, before she could properly use her legs and hooves. I would mix seafood in with her hay and oats, to make the transition easier. I did everything that I could to make her feel welcome. I would have been a monster if I didn't.

And yet, I fear it may have been for nothing, for every day she stares out the window toward the ocean at the west end of Equestria. She wants to go home, and I can't blame her for that. She's a seapony, and I can't ever hold that against her. It was a seapony I fell in love with, and it's a seapony I still love today. She may not look quite the same, what with her fins and tail being traded out for hooves, but she's still a seapony inside.

Me? I'm just a plain Earth Pony. Not a flying pegasus, not a magical unicorn, an Earth Pony. I've never had to deal with transformations or magic. The most I've dealt with was a viral infection or two, nothing like what she went through to come onto land. And she did it all for me. Me.

She did it for me, and I still feel guilty about it sometimes. I took her from her home with promises of love and a happier life. Try as I did, I don't think I ever quite delivered. I feel like I should apologize, but I can never seem to find the courage to do so. If I did, would she forgive me? I hope she would.

Sorry. I've rambled on long enough about my problems. You probably don't care, anyway. After all, why would Princess Cadance care about a problem as inconsequential as mine? Sorry for bothering you with this rant. I think I'll just crumple this up and toss it into the trash. It doesn't matter anyway, right? She and I are still together, and still in love, so there's nothing to worry about.

Then why am I still writing?

Author's Note:

This short is currently being rewritten as a multichapter story.