Dear friend

To: Me
From:輕浮蹄Derpyдитзи копитаHooves@equestria.net
CC: принцезаPrincess天體陽光небеските сонце公主Celestia@equestria.net
Subject: RE: Dear Derpy

Dear Mitch,

I don't know who, or what, you really are. But if what you've told me is true, honestly true, then I thank you. I thank you for feeling sympathy for me. I don't know how you were able to send me this letter, or if I will be able to reply to you. But through all of this, I feel a sense of, completeness. The way you described your pain, the pain of humiliation, was the same way I felt for a very long time. And what you've given me, the amount of support, just by telling me that I am not alone, is enormous. Like you, I have always had problems. When I was born, my doctor almost dropped me. As I slipped out of his hooves, he caught my ankle, and i swung around and hit my head on the hospital bed-rail. My vision immediately went cross, and I'm haven't seen straight since. Things got worse the moment I set hoof,or at least when my parents did, outside of the hospital. Somepony flying by, carrying a bag of muffins, ran into my mother, who was carrying me. This time, I did fall to the ground, and as tears welled up in my recently crossed eyes, that remorseful pony gave me a muffin. It was delicious, to say the least, by I was but a new born, and I chocked on it. Using his magic, my father was able to dislodge the small delicacy from my throat, while my mother scolded the stranger for giving me the food that, clearly, I was too young to be consuming.

From there, life was much simpler. I had two operations in my first year alive. The first on my neck, a weird mole had grown there, and the second was on my hoof, which had locked up and ceased to function. Then I found out I was lactose intolerant, and that most I have problems with digesting most unprocessed plant material. That meant that everything I ate, was either boiled, fried, or baked. And on top of that, my impaired vision removed the possibility of flight school. I was disheartened, dissatisfied, crushed. All in all, I thought my life was the worst, and that it could not get any worse. But it did.

My mother had health issues also, it was her heart. Tachycardia, that was what the doctor had called it. It was what he said had got her. On that faithful night, my sixth birthday. I was devastated, to the point of denial of life. That's right, suicide. I tried to take my own life, but my father stepped in. He showed me that life still had meaning. And because of him, I continue to live.

But the problems didn't stop there, no there was much more to come.My friends Lyra and Bon Bon, and I went to school together. Speaking of Lyra, I should really tell her about you. She was the one who always talked about the existence of humans. Anyway, as I was saying, we went to school together. But I had trouble reading, for obvious reasons. In the end, I was called many hurtful names. Retarded, Slow, Wacko, Strange Eyes, Freak, Psycho. They tortured me with their words. It was like my mom's death all over again. I became depressed, again to the point of starvation and anorexia. My baked and boiled foods, they disgusted me. I was angry at the world, and at myself. I felt powerless.

One day, after about a month of my worst depression, my father gave me a piece of paper with a poem on it. What it said touched me in a way that I didn't think was possible. Here, you read it:

Life is fragile, this much we know
we live our lives, with not much to show
keeping our distance, like bubbles that float
but the winds of change, they started to blow

so now, as life seems to implode
and the path you take, now a different road
we bubbles collide, they combine or explode
and friends or enemies are made

So in the end, where do you go
down the same path, you tended to flow
or with friends, will you grow
like bubbles, our lives are short

Do you know what happened, at that moment? That was the day, that I got my cutie mark. It was amazing. Oh, right. A cutie mark, is this little symbol you get on your flanks when you find your special purpose in life. Can you guess what mine is? I'll give you a hint. Bubbles. That's right, bubbles. And I know the reason. That poem, that my dad wrote, it reminded me that life is going to suck sometimes. but other times will be amazing. I will have conflicts with other ponies, but I will have friends that love and care for me.

So let me tell you a bit of advice. You are not alone. If there are ponies, or humans, who have conflicts with you, then love and tolerate them. I may sound crazy for telling you to do so, but you should. It will help you cope with any problems you have. Get your friends, and have them support you. If your aren't the one at fault, and they are true friends, then they will aid you in anyway that they can. If you can follow this bit of advice, even to the small degree that I have, then life will improve.

Your new friend,
Derpy Hooves