“Alright, I hope you two have a super duper extra awesome night!!!” yelled Pinkie as the last two customers of the day left Sugar Cube Corner, giving a final wave and smile before closing the glass door behind them. It had finally gotten dark outside, Mr. and Mrs. Cake were on vacation with the kids and Pinkie had been left in charge of the bakery during their absence. Surprisingly, the building hadn’t collapsed yet while under her supervision.
Pinkie let out a yawn, “Welp, better close up shop,” she chimed to herself, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. But as the bouncing pink mare was about to jump upstairs and hit the hay, a noise from behind grabbed her attention. A white envelope fell from the mail slot on the door, falling to the ground like that of an autumn leaf.
Pinkie turned in a heartbeat, eyeing the letter. She bounced over to it for further examination. In big pink letters, the envelope read, ‘For Pinkie Pie’.
“Oooooo! A letter for me!?” the pink mare exclaimed, jumping at unrealistic heights out of pure delight. “Maybe I won a prize! Or maybe its candy! Or-“ But Pinkie’s guesses came to a halt as she tore open the envelope, revealing a simple, hoof written letter. A tad disappointed but still curious, she rested her big blue eyes upon the paper, reading the contents of every word.
+++
Sometimes, I get kind of down. No, that’s an understatement. I get straight up depressed. My whole world just topples over now and then, my mind spilling to the floor and spreading amongst the land like an ocean of thought and imagination. When my entire mind flows out so suddenly like that, it takes time to recover it all, regain the creativity that has left me. Easier said than done.
To earn what has been lost takes patience, effort, and work. But most of all, confidence. That is something I severely lack sometimes. My bones tend to ache and my innards fall in on themselves when I run out of energy.
My friends tell me to try, grow some muscle and do something about it, but I have doubts in myself, and I feel anything I try remains to this day as nothing but a failure. I have been pressured, pushed, and demanded to take action during these times of weakness, but I lack strength. I lack a lot.
I still remember that day though, the day something just snapped inside. The day I saw you. The day you came into my peripheral vision, slowing advancing towards the iris, now standing atop my pupil, taking control of my vision, earning my attention. Your slow, leisurely march into my world was something of true fantasy.
Day by day, you overpowered me, stealing my eyes, my ears, my mind, my soul, my heart. I own nothing now, and to be honest, I’m glad for that.
You have brought upon feelings I have never felt before, feelings that explode within me, illuminating my heart with a spectacular light show of fireworks. The bursts and pops of red, pink, blue, green, glowing in my ribcage, brightening me from the inside out, granting me a new look upon the world, a new kind of view.
In a matter of months, you placed my universe, my entire being into your palm, molding it, bending it, twisting it. Turning it into something of truly brilliant proportions. The funny thing is, you don’t even know how much of an effect you really are on me.
I yearn to do something more than just stop by and say hello. I only want to say the words, the words that have swarmed my mind for a long time now… I love you.
Alas, my tongue is tied, my mouth glued shut by the mighty force of fear, its strong grip clamping my lips, imprisoning the words I have dreamed of announcing to the world. Fear is a tyrant, a mercifulness being that dictates when and how we act. But like all dictatorships, they can be overthrown. All it takes is a little courage. Something I lack.
Tonight I plan on bringing down the might that is fear; I will no longer allow him to prevent me from acting. Sadly, even after what feels like an epic victory over this foe, I still wear battle scars and bruises, denting my heart and mind. The carvings that mark my confidence have wounded me, so I shall not express myself through verbal speech, but through literature. These are my words; this is what I wish to say.
Pinkie Pie, I love you.
+++
Silence reigned over the bakery, Pinkie stood dumbfound at the letter before her. What does this mean? Who could this be? She scanned her eyes across the paper a million times, praying for a name, an address, a code, anything. Nothing. It ended with that single sentence.
Pinkie Pie, I love you.
She couldn’t help but feel tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She never really had a fascination for stallions, but this, this opened her eyes to something far greater than she could have ever imagined. No pony had ever spoken to her this way, and the only love Pinkie knew was that of her parents, sisters, and friends. But these feeling that swam inside bubbled like a cauldron pot of emotion. So much to take in, so little time.
She had to know who this pony was, she had to. She yearned to feel this way with some pony else. Without thinking, Pinkie ran into the dark of night, spinning circles around the empty town square, praying that somepony would be out there to answer her calls of desperation.
“Hello!” she cried, “Is anypony here! Please! I want to talk to you! Please please please please!!!”
She couldn’t take it, falling to her haunches, wallowing in her own pity. Pinkie wanted to know who wrote this, she needed to know.
No pony answered her calls that night. But to this day, Pinkie waits with undying love for her secret admirer to reveal himself. She doesn’t know when or how it will happen. But she knows it will.
To this day she keeps that letter hidden away from all others, looking over it every night, reading that final sentence in her mind over and over again.
Pinkie Pie, I love you.
