Tending to the Heart's Forgotten Garden

by Botched Lobotomy

Just Not That Into You

I am way too nervous about this. I don’t mean job-interview-nervous, or bank-loan-nervous, or even travelling-to-another-universe-nervous, I mean the kind of nervous where you feel like you might actually die. Physically sick nervous. Woke up, threw up, cleaned up, threw up again nervous. Broke three pencils today cause my hands were so sweaty nervous.

Sunset’s coming to pick up her stuff. I’ll let you know how it goes.

We used to have fun together. We used to...you know. I’d wake up, and she’d be there, and this great sense of peace would come over me. Or...that’s not quite right. I’d just be at peace, and see her, and continue being at peace. She’d say something, and I would laugh, and I’d say something, and she would laugh, and we’d kiss, and get up, or stay in bed a while longer, or do whatever. It didn’t matter. Whatever we did together, that was the default. This soaring happiness, this joy, this feeling like I was so light I could almost float across the floor, that’s what we had.

Today it was just...nothing. It wasn’t bad, persay, it wasn’t good, it just was. I stayed up half the night tossing and turning and thinking about what it would be like. Would she be cold? Warm? Would she meet me with a hug (that, I dreaded, even though I half-hoped she would anyway), would she sneer when she said ‘Hi’?

I know we’d talked before this, and she’d been calm, polite, even though it was clear she had something more she wanted to say, and so did I, but none of it was getting said – but that was on the phone, that was just her voice, and it’s hard to tell what someone’s doing on the other end. Whether they’re pacing angrily, clutching at the phone, talking through the car speaker on their way to work (for my money, she was sitting with a cup of coffee, I’m fairly sure. She doesn’t drink tea): it’s only sound, transmitted through however many million miles to arrive cracked and solemn at your door.

The doorbell rang, and I almost threw up again, and when I answered it, there she was. She was...different. The same, but...yes, different. She’d done her hair differently, I noticed immediately, but that was nothing, that was whatever, the real difference was in how she acted. She seemed...

I think she was happier. Happier than last I’d spoken to her, sure, but happier than before, too. Happier than the last few months before we’d broken up. Not as cheerful as when we’d been together, not when we’d been one – part of me was glad to see that, and I hated that I thought that – but better.

‘Can I come in?’ she asked, and that was different too, her having to ask. And she came in, and left her boots by the door, and hung her long coat upon the rack, and it was like she’d never left. Sunset was back. And Sunset was a stranger.

I think she caught something in my eye, but I wiped it quickly, and brought her through into the living room. The whole place had been covered by bags of her stuff for days, and now it’s gone, it feels too empty.

We had tea, coffee, chatted a bit, and somehow, some way, it was easier than it had been in our last months. It wasn’t fun, not like it had been before, it was simply...pleasant. Overwhelming decent. Deeply nice.

‘How are you holding up?’ she asked me, the same question that everyone’s been asking me for the past eternity, and I knew that Sunset, my Sunset, could never have asked the question. Maybe that’s what made it easier to answer. So I told her honestly, how the year had been, how there was a girl at the deli-store I liked, how I’d rather she’d divorced me, how I’d been looking through old messages. I tried my hardest not to cry, and found to my surprise it wasn’t all that difficult.

So I asked her how she’d been holding up, and she looked away, and sipped her mug (which afterwards I packed in one of the bags for her to take away), and told me ‘pretty bad.’

And the question that should have been there, that should have been hanging over the whole conversation like a pair of garden shears, of ‘if we’re both so very miserable, why did we break up?’ – that question never came. It threatened, once or twice, but neither of us felt like saying it. It was obvious, really. Sitting there. Talking. It wasn’t good, or bad, just...was.

So she thanked me, and did the washing, waving me away as I tried to help, saying there was something therapeutic in it for her, to wash these plates in this house for the last time probably ever, and we moved through and started loading the bags into her car.

And just like that, it all was over.

And we stood in the doorway and stared at each other.

And wondered why we felt so distant.

Wondered at the life we’d had.

And wondered at the life to come.

She kissed my cheek, and vanished.

And there she went, her small red car disappearing down the road, fading to wherever it had come from. I stayed there, and watched the moment pass, and stayed a moment longer. The sun was setting, the sky afire, and a strange wind played upon my skin.

I said goodbye to Sunset Shimmer.

Sunnybuns

23:12
What are we, Wally?

23:12
Hmm?

23:13
What are we?
23:13
I mean really

23:14
What, you mean human? Dancers?
23:15
In your case, ponies? Prancers?

23:15
Hey, you were a pretty great pony too, I’ll have you know
23:15
Very cute
23:16
Extremely huggable

23:16
Why thank you. You were pretty cute yourself. For a pony, I mean.
23:17
Not to sound speciesest, but your human self is cuter ;)

23:18
Yeah?
23:18
That’s kinda my point

23:19
What is?

23:20
Like, you just called me cute. What does that make us?

23:22
I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.

23:23
Okay
23:23
Well
23:24
Okay

23:25
What does that mean?

23:26
Are we friends, Wally?

23:27
You’re not on this again, are you? Of course we are.

23:27
What do you mean ‘again’?

23:29
We’ve talked about this before, right?

23:30
Have we?
23:30
Oh!
23:31
Ohhhh right
23:31
This is different
23:32
Promise
23:32
No pony magic involved at all

23:33
Okay...

23:33
I’m meaning
23:34
When you call me cute
23:34
What does that *mean*?
23:36
You get me?

23:38
You worry too much about meanings, Sunset.

23:40
We’re friends, then?
23:41
That’s all it means?
23:41
Because that’s totally fine!
23:41
I was just checking!
23:42
Ignore me
23:46
Don’t suppose you have a spare memory stone lying around that I could use real quick?
23:50
Wally?

23:54
Sunset.
23:56
Are you perhaps asking me what I think you’re trying to ask me?

23:57
Iiiiiii guess
23:58
That depends on what it is you think I’m trying to ask you

23:59
Are you asking me out, Sunset?

00:01
......no?

Comments

[Ice Star]

23:59 Are you asking me out, Sunset?

She may be named Sunset but I feel like something is dawning

[Bicyclette]

Sunset’s coming to pick up her stuff. I’ll let you know how it goes.

ugh, i can feel the dread in my stomach and i’m sitting here an entire reality away!

We used to have fun together. We used to...you know. I’d wake up, and she’d be there, and this great sense of peace would come over me. Or...that’s not quite right. I’d just be at peace, and see her, and continue being at peace. She’d say something, and I would laugh, and I’d say something, and she would laugh, and we’d kiss, and get up, or stay in bed a while longer, or do whatever. It didn’t matter. Whatever we did together, that was the default. This soaring happiness, this joy, this feeling like I was so light I could almost float across the floor, that’s what we had.

augh that is so wonderful! and so awful to know you will never get back to that state…

I think she was happier. Happier than last I’d spoken to her, sure, but happier than before, too. Happier than the last few months before we’d broken up. Not as cheerful as when we’d been together, not when we’d been one – part of me was glad to see that, and I hated that I thought that – but better.

and augh! those complex emotions. yeah. relatable, every bit

‘Can I come in?’ she asked, and that was different too, her having to ask. And she came in, and left her boots by the door, and hung her long coat upon the rack, and it was like she’d never left. Sunset was back. And Sunset was a stranger.

oof, i remember this. i remember.

‘How are you holding up?’ she asked me, the same question that everyone’s been asking me for the past eternity, and I knew that Sunset, my Sunset, could never have asked the question. Maybe that’s what made it easier to answer.

augh, so real. a stranger indeed

So she thanked me, and did the washing, waving me away as I tried to help, saying there was something therapeutic in it for her, to wash these plates in this house for the last time probably ever, and we moved through and started loading the bags into her car.

and oof, yeah. that closure again

And we stood in the doorway and stared at each other.

And wondered why we felt so distant.

Wondered at the life we’d had.

And wondered at the life to come.

She kissed my cheek, and vanished.

just magnificent, this

23:14
What, you mean human? Dancers?
23:15
In your case, ponies? Prancers?

ahaha love it

23:59
Are you asking me out, Sunset?

dang, right before midnight again! Wallflower’s sense of timing is impeccable

00:01
......no?

ooh, what did she say next? what did she say next???