So, the ponies have been around for some time now, and I’m sure you have your own stories about how you met one of them ever since they first showed up. Myself, I remember that I was in awe back then. I watched all the news coverage about it, and somewhere on my hard drive I probably still have a recording of that first speech Princess Twilight gave after they went public. And I was thrilled when I first met a pony – and even more thrilled when I found out that most of them are really really nice people.
I know that some humans call them naïve, but I couldn’t disagree more. What may look like naivety to some is, in my opinion, just a profound lack of cynicism – a resource, I might add, us humans have plenty of for both species. Instead, ponies, or at least most of them, are optimists, and I guess after decades of wars and crises and corruption and generally fucking up ourselves and our planet, that can seem naïve to some humans. But they are not. They just believe that things will turn out well for everybody, or everypony. And I think we could use more of that.
I was also raised to believe that all racists are assholes, everywhere, and I still do. It surprised and saddened me that there still were – are – narrowminded assholes out there hating against ponies. A former good friend proudly told me one night how he’d beaten up “one of them pony freaks”. We haven’t talked since.
What I’m trying to tell you, I guess, is that I really like the ponies, at least the ones I’ve met so far, as well as the general idea of them being here.
And that was even before I met Fluttershy.
A few months after their arrival, she started where I work. I’m a computer admin in the biggest animal clinic within three counties, and we’re specialized in some of the more complicated stuff. By that time, we had two or three other ponies working there, and most co-workers had adjusted themselves, and they were treated just like everybody else, as far as possible.
Fluttershy, as far as I knew back then, was some sort of celebrity in the pony world. She apparently was good friends with Princess Twilight, and they and some others had been some sort of heroes back in their world, saving the day more than once. You know how they say that mankind is the worst monster we have on earth? Well, the ponies had actual monsters, with claws and an overabundance of teeth.
So yeah, when I found out she was starting at our clinic, I was surprised that a personal friend of the princess had to work at all. But she told me later that she had wanted to work in some sort of animal shelter or animal clinic because she missed it, and since ours is one of the closest to New Canterlot, she had applied here.
Fluttershy is probably the most timid, quiet pony you can imagine. When I first met her – I was on my coffee break and just chatted her up in the cafeteria out of curiosity – I didn’t even understand her name the first time she said it. But she started being comfortable around me soon enough, and we started having coffee – or tea, in her case – together pretty much every day. She told me of her work as an animal caretaker and how she sometimes missed her home, and I told her about our world and tried to make it appear as little scary as possible.
I never expected I’d fall for her.
Then again, I don’t have to be psychologist to have an idea of how this worked. Us human males, we have grown up with all those stereotypes shoved into our faces about the strong guy rescuing the weak girl, being her reliable rock and all. And even though my parents didn’t fit this stereotype in the slightest, I guess I took in enough of that stuff in movies and TV shows where all girls and women seemed to be in need of being rescued.
And I kinda did come to Fluttershy’s rescue. You see, most people treated her nicely, except for that one nurse. I don’t think she’s an outright racist – she gets along with the other ponies working here just fine – but she probably just thought Fluttershy was a weak target, so she shot her some rather nasty remarks a couple of times.
Fluttershy told me about these occurrences a few times, and even though she tried to hide it, I could tell she was upset. It angered me that someone could be intentionally mean to such a lovely and kind pony.
So I confronted the nurse. I told her if she was ever mean to Fluttershy again, she’d have to answer to me. And let me tell you, having a reputation for being the crazy admin nerd guy can be helpful. At least I never heard Fluttershy complain about her again.
We never spoke about it; I didn’t want to boast about my ‘heroism’, and Fluttershy never asked. But she knew. One afternoon after our coffee break, when we said our goodbyes, she suddenly flew up to bring her face to my height, and wrapped her forelegs around me, whispering “Thanks” into my ear.
I think it was that hug that made me fall for her, although I am fully aware that that is not how it usually works. There must have been something even before that, and I probably just never realized it before the hug.
She held me in her hooves for a few seconds, and I returned the hug, careful not to hinder her wings. She finally released me, gave me another sweet smile, and left.
You probably know what they call humans who mess with ponies. Fillyfoolers. Or coltcuddlers, depending on what gender you’re into. You may or may not know that pony homophobes used these words to talk down to homosexual ponies back in their world, and they are used in the same derogatory way now for humans who have relations with ponies. The ponies, I might add, got over that kind of narrowminded thinking quite some time ago.
Now I’ve been going on about how much I dislike racism and intolerance, and how little understanding I have for the haters who antagonize the ponies – and so it shames me even more to admit that I was ashamed of my feelings for Fluttershy. I tried to deny them, push them away. Not even, I think, because I have objections against these kinds of relations. I think I just believed it couldn’t be that I had a crush on a pony. Which, if you ask me, makes me an even bigger hypocrite. I didn’t even realize I was being a hypocrite.
Eventually though there was no more denying the facts. I had met this sweet, kind, beautiful girl who just happened to be a pony, and I liked her. Most normal thing in the world. After some time of wrapping my brains around the idea, I got myself to be okay with it.
And so I told her.
I’m not the kind of guy who keeps these kinds of feelings a secret for long, at least not anymore. I believe in making your move as soon as possible – you either get more time to spend with the girl, or you get closure.
When I told her, she was shocked, I could see that. She stared at me with her big blue eyes and slowly hid her face behind her long pink mane. She looked incredibly scared, and I had to fight the urge to reach out to her, to hug her, to comfort her.
She spoke very softly. “I-I’m… I mean… oh my. I… I don’t… you…” She stuttered like a schoolgirl, but the message was clear.
“It’s okay, I got it”, I told her.
“I’m so sorry”, she said, still not looking at me.
Even though it hurt a little, I forced myself to smile at her. “It’s fine. Or it’s gonna be fine. I promise.” When she still wouldn’t look at me, I added, “Really, Fluttershy, it’s alright. No hard feelings.”
“B-but I hurt you!” she burst out. “I’m so sorry…”
“I’m a big guy”, I told her. “I’ve been rejected before, and I’ve been okay. You don’t need to worry about me.” Without thinking, I stretched out my arm to pat her on the shoulder, but when she saw the motion she suddenly shied away and ran out of the cafeteria.
I hoped it really would be fine, but it wasn’t. I mean, it sure wasn’t the greatest feeling on earth to be rejected, but as I’d told her, it wasn’t the end of the world. It would stop hurting soon enough as I very well knew.
What hurt infinitely more, and what didn’t go away, was the way she changed, or rather, the way her behavior towards me changed. I kinda expected her to not be in the cafeteria the next day, or any other day of the next week. But what I didn’t expect, when I met her on a corridor a few days after, was the way she looked at me. It was only a split second that she even looked my way before she hastily turned away again, but I could see fear and worry and regret in her eyes, and that hurt. I waved and smiled at her, but again she shied away and fled into a closet. It seemed as if she was afraid of me. That was really the worst – knowing that I had scared this wonderful, sweet pony. I felt like I was no better than the bullying nurse.
Things didn’t improve. Every time I saw her, she shortly looked at me with her big fearful eyes before she made sure she got away from me. And that hurt. I missed our daily coffee breaks, of course, but her looking at me as if I was some kind of monster hurt even worse. The last thing I'd ever want is someone like Fluttershy being afraid and miserable.
I heard some other co-workers talk about her here and there during the next days. They had noticed that she was miserable, but she wouldn’t talk to anyone, and of course they had no idea what had occurred between us. It pained me to hear about her misery, and there was only I to blame.
Then, yesterday, someone mentioned she was going to quit.
I may not have been clear enough about how much she loves working in this place. People treat her nicely, and she gets to take care of all these animals. She told me that before she took up this job, she sometimes felt really useless in New Canterlot. I really can’t stand the thought that she’d throw it all away just because of me.
I can’t let that happen. I’m going to find her and talk to her.
As I walk through the corridors, looking for the yellow coat and the pink mane, I can’t get the image of Fluttershy out of my head, walking some other corridor, her eyes filled with tears, as she silently says her goodbyes to the place, to her co-workers, and to all her animal friends.
In my mind, she still has this fear in her eyes. In my mind, I find her, again and again, and each time she turns tail in sheer terror and runs away. And when she gets slower, her fear is replaced by the sadness of having to leave all this behind, of seeing this co-worker or that animal for the last time. It’s breaking my heart.
Her steps small and slow, her head hanging – that is exactly how I eventually find her trotting along a corridor.
“Fluttershy”, I softly call out to her. Upon hearing my voice she shies back and is about to turn away from me, but I say, “Wait, please!” and at least she doesn’t leave right away. She casts me a scared glance from behind her mine before looking away.
“Fluttershy”, I start, “you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to quit. I know how much you like it here, and I can’t stand to think you’re leaving because of me.” I swallow. She still doesn’t look at me, but at least she doesn’t run away, which I assume is a good start.
“Look, if you can’t stand working in the same place as me, then I’ll quit rather than you.”
“No!” she suddenly yelps. “I-I could never ask this from you, not after…”
I make a careful step towards her, very slowly, so I don’t scare her away. “Fluttershy, you didn’t hurt me when you turned me down. It’s fine, it really is!”
“But you must feel terrible!” she squeals.
“It’s going to be alright”, I tell her. “Maybe not today, maybe not this week. But it will be fine.” I make another careful step towards her.
She flinches with one ear, but stays put. Then she takes a deep breath and forces herself to straighten up, swiping her mane behind her ear so she can fully look at me. I still see the fear in her eyes, and I still don’t understand it. Why is she afraid of me? I’m about to ask when she gives me the answer.
“I don’t know how to deal with this… and with you”, she says, her voice almost a whisper. “Every time I see you, I know that seeing me must cause you pain. I’m causing you pain! I never wanted to cause anypony any pain, and yet I do, and I feel terrible for it.” A single tear rolls down her cheek. The sheer amount of kindness this pony possesses causes me a giant lump in my throat.
“I just don’t know how to deal with this”, she repeats. “And so I… I… I kinda wish I don’t see you so that I’m not reminded of what I’m doing to you. And that makes me feel even more terrible because you’re my friend and I should be happy to see you, and I should be here for you to help you when you’re distressed. But all I ever think about is my own pain and how I can’t deal with this, and I-I feel terrible again for being so selfish, and it’s all just a giant cycle of feeling terrible about everything.” She takes a deep breath after her long breathless rant. She is crying openly now, but she doesn’t blink or look away from me.
I’m fighting to hold back my tears; it’s a guy thing – she can probably see which state I’m in regardless. I just can’t believe what this wonderful pony is saddling herself with, all because of me. I swallow and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“Fluttershy, you’re not causing me any pain at all”, I tell her emphatically. “If anything, I’m the one who’s causing me pain, but I’ll work it out. I’ll be fine, you can trust me on that.” Well, and what’s really causing me pain right now is her turning away from me. But I don’t want to put pressure on her, so I don’t say it.
She looks into my eyes for a few seconds, and what she sees apparently reassures her. “Okay. I believe you.” She hesitates a moment before she adds, “If you need help, or somepony to talk… I’ll be here for you.” She trembles a little as she says that, and I’m pretty sure she’s still somewhat uncomfortable with the situation between us, but still she offers me her support. Again I am completely dumbstruck by her kindness.
But mostly I’m relieved. I admit it, part of me is glad she won’t leave because I want to keep her around; I want to be able to have coffee with her and talk to her and all. But it is also wonderful to see her without that constant fear and worry for a change.
“So”, she says. “I, I have to go look after the baby seals if that’s okay with you.” She fidgets with her front hooves.
“Let’s get some coffee on Monday, what do you say?” I quickly suggest. “This way we both have some time to think about stuff, readjust, you know.”
She gives me a careful smile and nods. “Yes, let’s do that.” With a final wave of her hoof she canters away, seeming much happier than before – a sentiment I wholeheartedly share.
I’m really quite excited about our coffee break on Monday.
Author's Note
I usually don't like fics with humans and try to avoid them. But I found this story in my brain one day and wrote it down, and I didn't hate it, so here you go.
C&C welcome, especially grammar / vocabulary nazism.
