I Wish Things Could Be Different.
I Wish Things Could Be Different
“But… You’ll be home soon, right?”
As she uttered those words, your girlfriend of five and a half years cracks a hopeful smile. Her eyebrows point up as she leans in close to you. You can smell her fresh maple scented perfume; one of your favorite scents in the world. This is a day you knew was coming for the longest time. Countless nights were spent tossing and turning regretting having to do this. Many hours were spent pondering on how to make this easier on both of you.
There are no books you can read. Nopony you can turn to. Nopony who you could hide behind.
It’s time.
The frown on your face, mixed with your shaky hooves offer her no consolation. Her hopeful expression fades into one of foreboding sadness. Her voice quivers ever so slightly.
“R-Right?”
You say her name, but only above a whisper. She leans in closer. You can now smell her breath. Her recently brushed teeth offer a pleasant minty aroma. For what seems like full minutes, you only gaze into her eyes. She gazes right back. You can see the slightest bit of sparkle reappear as her hope rises once again. You continue to stare into her enormous, beautiful oceans ponies call eyes. As you stare, your frown only grows and you regret this more and more. Her hoof starts to rise. In your peripheral vision, you see it inch toward your cheek. You reach up and ever so lightly grab it. Her delicate fur feels so soft and cloud-like, it almost hurts. Your stomach knots itself even tighter as you gently lower her fragile hoof to the ground.
She continues to stare into your eyes. You know what has to be done.
You tell her you wish things could be different. She responds with a soft “We all do.”
It’s been two years since the Changeling war started. Already, millions of ponies are dead. Most from the royal guard and basic military. Queen Chrysalis had survived the Canterlot incident and brought back a massive army of powerful Changelings. Princess Twilight Sparkle deduced something about a hive and reproducing. All that matters to you, and most other soldiers, is wiping out as many of them as possible.
Now you’re going away to Saddle Arabia to assist in an effort to take the region back. The already rough terrain and harsh landscape don’t help much with war. It takes some doing to simply survive in the jarring province.
Chances of survival are well in the single-digits.
She still continues to stare into you. She seems to be reading your thoughts as her ears slowly plant themselves to the top of her head. She whispers to you that it will all work out, that you’ll return safe and sound. You remain silent. Her words become shakier and quicker. Her breath is unstable. Once again, she leans forward. She’s closer now. Much closer. Too close.
Her lips briefly come in contact with yours before you pull away. Turning around, you hear her flank plop onto the floor. She pleads you not to do this. You look at her once again. Her image is blurred due to your tears in your eyes. You blink once and they go away. Her face shows an incredible blush and tears stream her face. She stares at you with those big green eyes. You are currently about four hooves away from each other. Her long tail sways back and forth ever so slowly. Her lips are open slightly as she stares at you. In confusion. In disappointment. In sorrow. In grief.
You can only guess your expression is the same.
“I wish things were different,” you repeat, trying to somewhat to ease some of the pain. Of all things, you don’t want things to be the way they are. But that’s just the reason you’re leaving. To make it better for everypony. To make it better for your family. For your friends. For her. You’re leaving for her.
If only you didn’t have to break her heart to do it.
“I’m leaving for a reason,” you say, much quieter than before, “For you. For Equestria. If I stay, then things will get worse before they get better. I can’t do much, but every pony counts.” You face her fully, your chest puffed out slightly. “If I don’t leave, then those few Changelings I don’t stop could make all the difference. If I don’t leave, the chances of winning this war go down. And we just can’t afford that right now.”
Her shoulders sag. Another tear runs down her face. She stares down at the floor and closes her eyes. You can see her whole body shake.
“Please,” she whispers, just loud enough to be audible, “Stay here. We-We can hold out… We’ll find… find somewhere… and hide.” You calmly say her name. Her name. Her beautiful name. You’ve heard that name in your dream. Fantasized about that name. Adored that wonderful name. She slowly looks up. Her eyes are now red. Once again, you both stare into each other. Once again, your stomach knots and your blood ceases to flow.
Ever so slowly, you shake your head ‘no.’
“Th-Then… I’ll go with you,” she says, standing up and moving forward. “You always say any one pony can make a difference. I’ll help. I can help.”
You begin to say her name again, but she cuts you off.
“I-I’ll enroll! I’ll train! I can be a big help! I promise!” Suddenly, she lurches toward you and wraps her angel-soft forelegs around you. Her body spasms and shakes as she cries into your shoulder. Nothing held back; she’s crying harder than you’ve ever seen. Bawling whilst squeezing your frame. Lifting your left foreleg, you place your broad hoof on her back and lightly start to stroke.
A tear rolls down your face.
“No,” you say, holding her tighter, “I won’t risk it. I won’t put you in danger. I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”
“Please,” she chokes out between long cries, “Don’t go. . . . . Don’t go. . . . .” She repeats this several times. You close your eyes and remove your hoof. You whisper in her ear ‘Shhh. . . .’ and lightly push her away. She holds on tight.
“I have to go,” you say quietly. It hurts to say these words. It hurts more than any injury you’ve ever sustained.
But you have to go.
After a bit of effort, she lets go of you and backs away. Her fur is now matted and stained with salty, wet tears. Her eyes are swollen and red. And another tear goes down your cheek.
“I-I. . . . . I’ve never seen you cry bef-fore. . .”
“I know,” you say with a shaky tone. Reaching into the pocket of your jacket, you pull out a sealed envelope. Walking over to the table, you lightly set the white paper onto it. She reaches to open it, but you stop her. She looks at you in confusion.
“Open it . . . when you feel you have nothing left. When you’re at your lowest low with nopony to turn to. Open it when you’ve reached a dead end and you’re all alone.”
You remove your hoof.
For the last time in your life, you stare into her beautiful eyes. Her beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“Goodbye, Fluttershy,” you say, looking down. Another tear runs down your face. You turn around, open the door, and leave. You leave her home. You leave her life. You leave your true love.
She’ll survive, though. You’ll do anything in your power to make sure of that.
You’d even give your life.
