Another Round...
No amount of tears I shed could ever bring my dear mare back.
Now I just sit here alone, with a shot of whiskey placed directly in front of me on the table. For my own convenience and privacy, I isolated myself within the corner of this smoke filled bar. It sits just outside of Ponyville, a sorta perfect spot for me to just go in, sit down, and think about all the wrongdoings I have ever committed within my own life. Once they were thought up, another shot of whiskey seemed to help wash them down and out of my mind.
Yet, there are some problems out there that I just can’t seem to drink away. No matter if I try Jack, Gin, or every single variation of whiskey, there isn’t a medicine for my heartache. It consumes me like a dangerous type of poison upon the heart, or maybe that’s just the excessive alcohol. Either way, I felt broken on the inside while I remained seriously composed and sorta enraged on the outside.
I felt cheated, abused, and left to rot after she left me high and dry. Figures… I should have listened to her when she said she had enough with our relationship in the first place, but I guess my own ignorance towards what she had to say neglected my reasons to care. She was a- well, pain in my side the whole year we had been together. Yet, it was like a sweet, sorta gentle pain at first, like a thorn or a nail pricked into the side of your back. You could ignore it at first, but after awhile it builds up to become something so inconvenient that you are left begging for it to be removed.
That was our relationship… our screwed up, sorta crazy relationship.
She was an accountant out of Baltimare while I was a simple farm pony, still living in Ponyville today. We met in the very same bar I am sitting in right now, at this very same table, on a night very similar to this. She looked like an angel that night, with her white mane, coat, and wings, her diamond earrings, and a smile that could brighten the darkness within this room. Her personality was amazing as well; Great sense of humor, always cheerful, and sorta optimistic. It seemed like nothing could bring her spirits down.
...at first.
We talked for a while that night, a long while. Almost any sort of conversation topic you could think about was discussed from our favorite music, food, and books, to what your dreams are and where we see ourselves in five years. The discussions never stopped, and we seemed to just click, sorta match each other. You know? Like two little lovebugs that have found each other and couldn’t resist letting go once they were together. That was us two.
We started seeing each other after that night through weekend trips to-and-from where we lived. One weekend, I would be in Baltimare, then the next weekend she would be with me on my farm near the northern end of Ponyville. It’s through those visits that we truly got to know about each other’s more personal selves, such as her tendency to be such a particular neat freak.
Yeah, she hated the mud, dirt, and grime I got myself into. Working on the farm isn’t the prettiest sort of job, but it’s a hard living with some joyful awards here-and-there. The animals I was around were one of them, when they wanted to cooperate and not threaten to peck or kick my shins. I tried to introduce some of them to her, but she refused to even acknowledge their existence.
I shrugged it off, understanding that some mares out there aren’t a keen to other animals. Besides, she didn’t have to really get to know what I did since that was my job, not hers. I originally thought it would be a nice gesture, yet she constantly begged for me to get her out of there. Looking back on it now, that should have been my first warning sign.
Fast forward a few more months and she finally moved in with me.
I guess my second warning sign came after I just gotten off work a few times, and oh was I tired. The last thing I didn’t want to acknowledge was how dirty and messed up my mane was, yet she constantly nagged me about it. She told me over-and-over how much of a dirty stallion I was and that I immediately needed to shower after stepping into the house for no more than a minute.
I will admit though, I did smell a bit after coming in. However, after I decided to change my own routine up and prevent coming into the house with an odor, the nagging still continued. My mane and coat were still all messed up, ruining the image of the stallion she loved. The mare wanted me spotless after I finished up my duties, to point where her own standards didn’t have me wearing the true nature of what is essentially a part of me.
Then, the final nail in the coffin for our relationship happened right after I mentioned to her about the idea of marriage and balancing out our finances.
She claimed to be the expert on both of those topics, and that nothing I said was making any sort of sense. I can’t exactly recall some of the points she made, thank you whiskey, but the last thing I could remember was her packing up her stuff and saying, “If you’re going to act this way like you have for the past few months, then I’m gone.” She then slammed the door in front of me and that was the last time I ever saw that mare.
Now I am sitting here in this bar again, drinking and sobbing over the time I wasted with her. I did really think at times that I got it right with her, but I guess I was just using love more as a shield to block out the faults within her and myself. I feel so stupid, but yet just a bit more wise as well…
I guess love just makes a stallion do some things he will never be proud of.
Sigh... I need another drink.