I saw her again down the street today. I was walking down home from the store to the school to pick up my little sister. She was bouncing in her steps as she usually did. I watched until she went around the corner, out of my sight once again.
I am hopelessly in love with her.
I went home that day thinking only of her. Just thinking about her gives me mixed feelings of happiness and sadness. Happiness because she demonstrates the kind of energy I wish I had. I wish I could be as happy as her, but ponies don’t pay attention to you when you aren’t worth a second.
I’ve had a pretty normal life so far. I was born in the middle class. I have had no mortal problems with my body growing up. I had pretty average grades in school. I have my own job working with my talents. I even have my own fillyfriend. But so far my life has been average. Maybe too average. Maybe that’s why I’m crushing on her. She’s not normal. And I like it.
And yet, when I think of her, that happiness quickly fades to sadness.
I don’t get mad when I see him. I don’t get jealous. I just get this bugging ache in my chest and I walk away. I can’t face them. I just can’t. I’ve nothing to be feeling against them. I’ve only myself to blame.
She has a coltfriend now. I can’t do anything to change that.
Sparkler came by that night. I couldn’t remember what she was talking about. She said something about a mall in Canterlot she was going to visit. I don’t remember when she was supposed to go, but it’s nice to know I’ll soon have no one left to support me. I couldn’t focus on the conversation. I was too busy thinking of her. When she kissed me goodnight, I thought it was the pink pony. I had been so engrossed in thoughts about her, I thought she had manifested before me. Then when I came to, I was disappointed.
Life isn’t a dream. It never was.
And yet I can’t help but lay here in bed, thinking only of us. Sometimes I would wish it were just her and I in the world, with no one else. Sometimes I hate myself for not realizing my feelings any sooner. Sometimes I hate myself for being too much of a coward to act on my infatuation. But like every other night, I’ll fall asleep feeling sorry for myself.
I don’t know much about him, that stallion. I remember seeing him sometimes in the town, but I never strayed for too long outside. I have little memory of most ponies, even. So I care little for his identity or his occupation. I can’t help but feel proud of him, though. He was braver than me, after all. And he was rewarded. I hope he takes care of her.
I can’t help but wonder if she’s happy with him. She doesn’t seem any less happy. She doesn’t seem any happier. I really wonder what it is those two have going for them. I can only wonder. But then I kid myself for having these thoughts. There’s probably more to their relationship than I see. Maybe he’s keeping her better cared for than I could. Maybe she is happier with him. But none of this upsets me.
What upsets me is that I’ll never share those feelings with her.
Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and tell my past self to take a chance. I’d tell him to stop being afraid, because he’d regret it. I’d tell him not to give up. I’d tell him that if he didn’t, he’d lose her, and he’ll live on with the knowledge that he’ll never know what it was like. And even worse, he’d live with the guilt that he never tried.
I’m so tired.
Sparkler’s a good fillyfriend, but I don’t really have anything…solid for her. I’m mostly nodding at the things she says, we have lunch together sometimes, but she has never asked me for much. She never asks about how my day was or any plans I might have. It just seems…hollow. I always knew this, though. I always knew how empty this love was. But I only stay with her so that I can pretend to have love. But I can’t fool myself. For all I know, she’s probably getting cozy with another stallion in Canterlot. Would I care? Probably not. The illusion has been keeping me alive for all this time, I can’t just let it go, not without something else to hold on to.
I really do have nothing else. This is all I have.
A small house, a minimum wage job, and a false love. This is really all I have. Sounds like I got the short end of the stick, but I can’t think selfishly. There are other less fortunate ponies than me. Some of them may never know what love is. Some of them lose it as quickly as they get it. But at least they lived. The loveless will never know the burden. The loved will know what it was like to truly live. I have neither. I am stuck longing for something I can never have.
I can never have Pinkie Pie. And that makes me upset with myself.
I wanted to be with her. I wanted to share my feelings with her. I wanted to have lunch with her, say hi to her, look at her and see her looking at me. I can’t help but suddenly degrade to a whiny colt when it comes to her. I need love. I need her. And yet, she’s out of my reach, forever.
How ignorant I was, thinking I had the time. I could have waited for an opportunity or a moment to present itself. I waited for life to favor me. I didn’t hassle a higher being to tip the odds in my favor. I just waited and bided through life, hoping, not really doing anything. If she and I were meant to be, I would have just waited for it to happen. But instead, I lost her. She became too distant from me to reach. Now, she and another pony are happy, while I’m here, feeling cold and blue.
Blue. That’s what I’ve been since I came to this world. Blue from head to tail. It was in my talent, even.
Perhaps it was my fault. I never wanted to take a chance. I was too afraid of the pain of heartbreak. I didn’t want to suffer with the thought that she’d never want to be with me. I didn’t want to hear that maybe she wasn’t interested in me. I didn’t want to hear that maybe she had a coltfriend already. I was trying to be safe. And now, that hole appeared anyway, and it’s growing bigger the longer I live.
I’ve been such a fool. A woeful fool. I brought this upon myself. There’s no one to blame but me. If only, if only…
I may never stop thinking of her. No. I may never rid her from my thoughts. This shall pain me to the great sleep. I shall die alone. No one will miss me. She won’t miss me. She won’t even know who I was. But I’ll always know who she is. Pinkie Pie. That mare who works in Sugar Cube Corner. The love of my life. The love she’ll never know.
I need to sleep now. I have work tomorrow.
Goodnight, Pinkie.
Yours truly, Blues.
