A Distinct Lack of Tears
I, Princess of Friendship Twilight Sparkle, stand here in my best friend’s cloud house with my other five best friends. Four of them are crying. The emotionally stoic Applejack (bless her level head) isn’t.
And I’m not either.
This is just ridiculous. Your damn tortoise is going away for three months. I haven’t seen my brother in about six. That doesn’t stop him from existing.
Perhaps I’m being too cruel to fair Rainbow Dash. Her emotional reactions have always been over the top. Like that time after Gilda, where she wailed her eyes out in my library trying to figure out what went wrong. Or when she displayed all the symptoms of clinical depression after failing to study for a test. Not even I’m that bad… anymore. She’s like a chocolate bar. A tough but thin shell on the outside, soft nougat on the inside.
But really, three months?
And unless there’s a small miracle and you all ascend to Princesses with me, lifetimes will pass without them all. And I’ll live every single one. How do you think I feel? Three months? That’s a drop in the bucket compared to the time I’ll have to spend without these… these fantastic girls.
Perhaps I need to make more friends. they are all still the only five I have. A pitiful number if I’m meant to stay sane through the centuries. Perhaps it’s for the best. The more ponies die while I live, the less I’ll be as strong as I need to be. Perhaps I shouldn’t get close to anypony.
The scientist I am screams at me, tells me to collect some data. Blurt out that I was leaving for a few months. How would she react? How would anyone react? Would she shed a single tear. No, I bet she knows I’d come back. I’m pulling a prank, obviously. She’d probably start laughing. Actually I hypothesize she’d start crying more because it would be inappropriate. While the findings might be meaningful, it’s not exactly ethical. I think I’m starting to think like Discord. What if I had an important delegation to the griffon empire? We’ve made some actual diplomatic breakthroughs recently. But really, Dash. Your damn tortoise will be fine. He’s only like, three years old. He’ll outlive you. Spike will outlive you.
I’ll outlive you.
There it is again, that tiny nagging voice I try to keep in a jar so I don’t break down like she is now. Perhaps one of us is stronger. I somehow doubt it’s me. All of the psychology books I’ve read tell me I should express my emotions to my ‘support group’ which in this case happens to be these five. That’s supposed to make you strong, by being open. But like a building in a tornado, something is going to crash through it. If the window is open or not doesn’t matter. I doubt they could help, and on top of that, I’d be crushing them with their own mortality. Applejack hides her emotions well. She probably has to. I think she’s come to grips with her situation. Now that’s a sad story. I happened to run across her parent’s death certificates in the town records.
Compared with what she’s gone through, this is nothing.
Compared to my future, this is nothing.
“I can’t bear to see Fluttershy cry,” Rarity says. I’m pretty sure they’re either secretly dating or have a mutual crush on each other, but won’t just tell the other party. Of course, Applejack seems to flirt with everypony’s favorite white unicorn too. And don’t get me started on the sexual tension between Apple-horse and Weepy-Cry over there.
Maybe I’m overthinking things. Again.
Those who live in glass houses, Sparkle. I’m afraid I’ve grown quite attached to Rainbow. Her passion burns hotter than dragon fire. I admire that in anypony. She’s like a train, constantly moving forward. And have you seen how built she is? She’s a joy to be around. We’ve started a little book club, and meet to discuss Daring Do and other series I’ve gotten her started on. She’s strong. Perhaps that’s why this scene is ridiculous. She’s freaking out about three months of absence. I can only see it ending like Icarus, the earth pony that made wings out of feathers and wax.
If I tell her, I’ll have my time in the sun, then my wings will burn as she descends into the dirt one last time. For myself, I can’t let her know.
I kind of wonder if Rainbow knows she’s going to die, or if she still thinks she’s immortal. We’re all still pretty young, in our primes. It’s natural to not think of the end. But I read a lot of philosophy when I was young. I made peace with my mortality early. It’s the opposite that’s the problem now. But hey, eternity in a crystal castle. What more could one want? They did decorate it, so a little piece will live on. The chandelier is nice too. Memories. Fond ones. Ones I’ll miss, perpetually perched above my head. I recall Pinkie saying something like, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
I’ll try. I’ll try because I know you all would look down from the afterlife, if there is one, and be heartbroken if I was sad because you were gone.
I wonder how Tank feels. If he could talk, what would he say? Right now I want to slap Dash and tell her to stop being silly. Would he do the same? Hibernation is a natural part of life, like mating or preening. Oh how I loathe the tedium required with these new wings. Get up, make sure every. bucking. feather. is aligned and well oiled. Brush mane. Brew coffee. Be a presentable pony.
I should have never left that tower. Books are great. Books are eternal. Books tell you some things you knew and something you didn’t. Books can take you to far off lands on great adventures. Books don’t expect you to look “presentable” according to standards of society. Books love you for who you are. Friends can do that too, I suppose. So we’re left with the simple equation, books=friends-eternity. I’d be a happy unicorn, sitting atop all equine knowledge. Alone.
But what is knowledge without teaching?
That’s why I wanted to write a journal so bad, so I could remember. I mean, I had a photographic memory already, but I wanted to know their feelings. Preserve my friends in a slice of eternity. Get closer and have that closeness documented. So, perhaps, if I needed to, I could look back and know the answer if I needed to know, What would Fluttershy do?
I’m actually impressed with Fluttershy. I think deep down she knows this is silly too, but she’s dealing with it much better than I am, that’s just passive aggressively glaring at Rainbow’s overreaction. I doubt Fluttershy even thinks she’s delivering bad news, but it’s bad news to Rainbow, and she’s going to react this way anyway. She’s crying now, because despite my long rant, seeing a friend cry is tough. I guess I just need a more legitimate reason than “long nap.”
Self-diagnoses are always a tricky situation, but I kind of display symptoms of a very high functioning sociopath. Empathy is still hard. I mean, I didn’t even think the library was Spike’s home too. In times of pressure like these, I retreat into myself. That’s why I’m not crying. I just literally have no idea what’s so sad. I just hope my presence is enough moral support, because even after years of learning friendship I still have no idea what to do. Those psychology books I read told me that this reaction can be natural; to have no idea what to do. But why do I feel guilty for it? Somehow I doubt a sociopathic princess would go over well. Better not seek an official diagnoses. I at least think I have a problem, therefore I probably don’t. Probably. “I’m crying because you’re not crying,” you say? Well Pinkie, it’s three months.
Oh good, she’s finally stopped wailing like a banshee. Just as Rainbow accepts Tank’s fate, perhaps I should accept my own. Some things go on forever. Trees, with enough care. The library was at least five hundred years old. Hydras live centuries. Dragons too. They all seem perfectly well adjusted, so perhaps in time, I will be too.
It’s not like I’m running out of it.
Perhaps if I write a letter to… Luna may actually be the best to handle this. She has spent a millennium alone.