Beside Myself

by nameundetermined

First published

To understand others, you must first understand yourself...

Anon doesn't dislike the ponies in his life per se. he just...doesn't think he should involve himself. They are all doing so well for themselves, and he can take care of himself.

He's always been able to take care of himself.

1 - See You Tomorrow?

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Anon gave a soft click of his tongue as he headed home from Bon-Bon’s shop. He was all finished prepping all of the ingredients for tomorrow, and it looked like he was all geared up for another exciting night of sitting alone in his apartment with his metaphorical thumb up his ass.

He tugged the hood of his green jacket further up over his head with a soft, resigned sigh as he headed his way down the quickest path to his home, the sun glinting off of his emerald tinted shades as he took a look at the sun drifting slowly into the west and tugged his backpack against his shoulder slightly.

“Well, howdy there, Anon!” A familiar southern accent rang out cheerfully from his periphery. He turned to see Applejack, waving at him from her stall. Not an unfamiliar sight, considering he always passed by it on his way back from work.

He smiled kindly at her, waving back and walking over, only to be a bit confused by her suddenly wincing and stepping back just a tad, looking somewhere between off-put and a little ashamed as she collected herself while he approached. “Hey there A.J., what's...uh, you alright, what gives?” he changed tone from cheerful to somewhat concerned as he saw her reaction.

Applejack nodded, waving it off as she swallowed audibly. She adjusted her hat with just a tad of a shake to her hoof, not making eye contact, and not just because of the shades. “Oh, it ain’t nothin too bad, pardner. Just uh..saw somethin’ that didn’t sit right with me.” She said as she, as tastefully as she could, gestured to her mouth with her hoof and did the equivalent of a pointing motion.

His eyes lit up with recognition and he gave an embarrassed gasp, reaching around his neck to pull the wrap-around mask hanging around his neck up to cover his mouth. “Ah, shit. Sorry about that, A.J.'' he said apologetically as he patted the fabric. Covering the lower half of his face was now a green tube of fabric, with a large, goofy cartoon smile stretched across the front. Hopefully a bit more approachable. “Get’s awfully hot in the kitchen sometimes, noone’s usually around so i-”

She shook it off and shook her head, giving him a warm smile. “Tain’t nothin’ for you to worry about, sugarcube. Nobody's fault but Faust you got such a sharp set on ya. I right appreciate ya keepin em’ under wraps in the first place without bein’ asked.”

He nodded and gave a small shrug, smirking slightly behind the mask. “Hey, anything that makes it easier to get by, ya know?”

The both of them exchange small noncommittal noises of pleasantry before Applejack gives him her sales pitch. “So, hankerin’ for somethin’ Anon? All that candy makin' sounds like thirsty work, and I got a bottle or two of freshly pressed Golden Delicious cider that wouldn’t mind havin’ your name on em.”

He had to admit to himself, the offer was definitely tempting. And it isn’t like he didn't have bits to spare on a well-earned refreshing beverage after a hard day's work. “Heh, alright, what the hell is Bon-Bon paying me so well for if I can’t live a lil, eh?” he asked her rhetorically as he pulled a few bits out of a jacket pocket, handing them over to the mare, who fished out two sizable bottles of the promised cider with her mouth.

After she passed them off to him and he stuck them in the deep pockets of his cargo pants, she looked at him a little longer, differently than before with her head tilted at a slight angle, an inscrutable but sincere look on her face. “Say uh, Anon...Have you thought about takin’ me and Big Mac up on our offer to come over for dinner some night? We really would like to see ya around sometime for dinner, and Applebloom always loves seein‘ ya on your way home, I’m sure she’d appreciate gettin’ to pepper you with questions proper-like.”

He shrugged noncommittally, looking down at the ground away from her. His voice was still cheerful enough, but his posture, less so. “Oh uh...yeah! I just don’t want to be a bother, ya know? You all already work so hard and I wouldn't want to bother you and poor old Granny Smith with another mouth to feed.” He said softly as he kicked at the ground a bit.

“It ain’t no trouble at all really, Anon. We’d all be right happy to see ya around.” She said a tad more firmly. Not demanding, but gently imploring as she gave him a reassuring smile.

He looked from the ground back to her for a moment then over towards the direction of his house. “I mean um...yeah, I’ll definitely think about it. Thank’s again for the cider, A.J. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time as always, right?” He asks not unkindly as he inches away before slowly turning to walk towards his house.

She gave a resigned sigh, smiling at him gently and nodding, not upset, but a tad disappointed as he walked away. “Yeah, Ah’ll be around, big fella. Don't work too hard now, ya hear?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he said with a soft cackle as he raised a hand and waved back at her as he walked down the road.

After he got a bit farther away from her he softly muttered to himself. “God damn it, every time with this. You really need to just say yes.” He muttered to himself softly as he approached his small, cozy home. “She’s just trying to help man, no need to give her the cold shoulder.”

He gave a small grunt and resigned sigh as he opened the door, tossing his backpack onto the couch sitting in the living room of his spartan, but adequate abode before plopping down alongside it, slipping down his mask again and burying his head in his hands, pushing off his hood to reveal a mid-length bushel of dark, verdant-hued locks nestled about his face.

He really had to stop talking to himself. He really had to stop doing a lot of things, but realistically, he probably wouldn't.

It wasn’t the first time she had invited him to dinner, and Faust knows that as long as he’s spending his nights cooped up in here like a god damned recluse it wouldn't be the last. She was just trying to help, they all were. Anytime he had a problem, anytime he looked down, or upset, there was always somepony asking him if he was alright, offering help. Oftentimes inviting him to some social event or another. Telling him it would be good for him. He could have some fun, maybe make some friends.

He nearly invariably always agreed with the sentiment, and nearly invariably, he would just play it off and smile, maybe joke about it a little bit and tell them it was no big deal before going on about his day. No need to bother them with his problems, it wasn’t that bad really. And he liked having time to himself to relax and think about things. It was easier for him to just figure it out on his own.

Or at least that was what he always told himself. But if it wasn’t so bad, why did he keep refusing help, and why did it keep happening?

He brushed these thoughts aside for the time being. No need to dwell on it. Focus on the positives, try to relax. The weather was certainly nice, perhaps he could go for a walk in the Everfree Later, clear his head…be alone for a while. He always did seem to want more of that it seemed...

He gave a small grunt as he picked himself up off of the couch, grabbing his backpack again and slinging it over one shoulder, pulling his mask back up as he trod towards the door. Then again, maybe now would be better. That cider would probably go down a lot smoother with a little bit of atmosphere and sunshine. Give him something to take his mind off things.

He could always use another distraction.

2 - Maybe It's Just Me...?

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The slow, lingering sound of an exhale drifted through the small riverside clearing as Anon sat atop his Thinking Rock. A half-empty bottle of Sweet Apple Acres Golden Delicious Specialty Cider dangled in his half-hearted grip as he looked contemplatively at the slowly moving currents of the forest stream.

He had been here a lot lately, doing exactly this. Perhaps more than was healthy. No, definitely more than was healthy. The rumination and his frequent transactions at the apple stand were already bad enough, and, but if the rest of the girls found out how many bottles of this stuff he had been through this month he might as well cut his ears off for all the good they would be once they had been chewed off.

But as these thoughts slithered through the uncomfortably familiar crevices of his own consciousness, the brush and bush behind him began to rustle, and out clopped possibly the only face he would want to see right now. Not that he had much of a choice. She always seemed to know when he was out here.

“Heh, you’re late, I’m already halfway through the damn thing…” he said with a very slight stilt to his voice, tripping over his words just slightly as he gestured with the bottle towards the zebra who now sat next to the boulder he perched on, offering it to her.

She nodded and sat down next to his rock, setting down a saddlebag beside her before she politely took the bottle, taking a small sip of it before passing it back over to him. “The cider is the least of my concern, I see your thoughts have once more taken a turn.”

He sagged slightly and gave a small nod. “Yeah, you always hit the nail right on the head, Zecora. I was just...feeling down, and Applejack made me an offer I couldn't refuse. And then another I felt like I had to refuse…” he said as he ran a hand gently across his face, grimacing as he felt the sharpness of slowly growing stubble. He would need to shave again soon, the mask gave him rashes if he didn’t.

“She offered you another invitation. Can you explain the need for your hesitation?” She said...not gently, but plainly, inquisitively. She never prodded, judged, she merely asked, and allowed him to answer. It was an honest, simple rapport that he appreciated.

He gently tugged at the mask hanging around his neck as he answered “I just….dodon't want to be a bother, you know? If I go to dinner, I will have to take this off, and well…”

“You worry your grin will cause them distress. But if you snub them so, does it really cause less?” She questioned as he took another nip at his cider before passing it back to her, letting her have a swig as he thought about his answer.

“Well, it’s like...in the brain, there's this bit called the fuckin uh...what did Twilight call it...the amygdala?” he started, racking his slightly intoxicated brain. “And well, the one on ponies is way bigger than the one I have apparently. Ponies have a more developed limbic system in general, they feel stuff more, and they feel it a bit differently…”

He takes his bottle back from her as she nods, continuing. “And well, ponies have this...instinctual reaction to my face, I have a lot of er...predator features. Small, front-facing eyes, canines, and apparently like my...smell is also a bit off-putting. And The ponies pick up on all of that. They can’t love me the way they love other ponies, they can only really tolerate me for the most part. I just….I feel bad about making them uncomfortable, ya know? It’s not my fault for being this way and it’s not their fault for being that way. So it’s better for everyone if I just keep my distance and try not to be too much of a bother.”

Zecora nods slowly as she watches him take a rather deep draught from his bottle, thinking for a moment before addressing him once more. “It is true that the ponyfolk fear what they do not know, I was much like yourself, a time not too long ago. But with time they proved to be more than the sum of their parts and showed me the compassion that wells from their hearts. Perhaps it will not be easy for you at first, but if you do not try, I can only see things getting worse.

He gave a small nod and rubbed at his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, yeah, I remember the story about how they used to think you were some sort of evil cannibal witch doctor.” It was quite easy to remember considering she had told it to him so many times. But perhaps that was his fault for not listening. “Maybe you’re right. I mean what, am I just going to spend the rest of my life coming out to sit on a rock in the middle of a magic forest and getting shitfaced with a talking zebra?” it was really a lot less cool than it sounded in practice. “Maybe I should try to be a little more willing to accept the hoof being extended my way…”

Zecora smiled softly and gave him a warm, slightly pleased look. “I see the Apples spared no expense. Only halfway through the bottle and you are already talking sense.”

“Oh yes, haha, I get more open about my feelings when I’ve had a few, so funny,” he said flatly as he stood up off of the rock, wobbling slightly. “Fuck, I don’t think going to dinner with cider on my breath is gonna be a great look…”

Zecora chuckled softly and pulled a small wooden canister from her saddlebag. “This will not be a pleasant thing to ingest, but it will put your intoxication to rest.” She said, offering it to him with a wry smirk.

He accepted it, popping the top off of it and quickly downing it. His eyes bug out and he gives a small retch, hunching over and thumping his chest a few times before slowly leaning back upwards, still rubbing at his chest before moving his hand up to his throat with a soft couch. “Fuck, that was some ungodly brew...thanks, Zecora.” he said, a more steady, familiar cant returning to his voice as he straightened himself out, pulling his mask over his face as he looks over in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.

“Thanks for everything…” he said a bit more softly as he walked off, the zebra simply smiling softly as she watched him wander off to what was hopefully a dinner date with destiny.