Doesn't matter who you are, but you need to read this. This is not some story about a stallion who meets the mare of his dreams. That story is gone. This is on the opposite side of the mirror. I don't even know who I'm writing this for, myself I guess. This is a story of rejection, of defeat, of pain and depression. It doesn't matter who I am, just that you learn so you don't make the mistakes I did. Lets start at the beginning...
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We're hanging out by the lake, swimming and having a good time. He looks perfect with his crimson fur and golden blonde mane, plastered to his head by the cool lake water. His strong muscles from countless hours of farm work. He's my best friend. A-and I love him. The way shuts his mouth and keeps it locked until it counts. The way he chuckles when I get flustered around him. The way he always smells of fresh apples. I love everything about him. He is perfection.
Then there's me. With my mousey brown mane and bland grey coat. Average stallion, average build, average everything. I wish I could tell him, but I'm just not good enough. I am not good enough to love him, to care for him, to be with him. I shovel coal for a living. My cutie mark being a black lump of a rock. What use would an apple farmer have for a coal shoveler? They have plenty of firewood. I love him so much, but I don't want to ruin what we have now. A close friend, but not close enough. Never close enough. Everypony always says that anything can happen in Equestria. Horseapples. Where is the magic of love? Mi Amore Cadenza seems to have forgotten me. Luna plagues my sleep with dreams of the impossible future and nightmares of the harsh reality. It's starting to get dark and he needs to head home for supper, he offers me a seat, but I deny him. I don't deserve his family's kindness. I have leftovers at home. I start the long trot home as it starts to rain. Perfect.
My flat is small. One bedroom, one bath, one kitchen, and a seven by seven "entertainment" area. Like anypony actually comes here. The icebox finally got fixed and that bathroom is rusty at best. I could afford better than this, if it weren't for my drinking problem. I hide it most of the time, but when I stumble up to his apple cart piss ass drunk, he can tell. He closes up for a bit and walks me back to my building. I never let him in, he'd lose the last of his respect for me. I walk in and lock up before I get my bottle of whatever I bought last time. I black out over the toilet an hour later.
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I wake up, and vomit up the gin. I guess that's what I bought, go figure. I stumble across the linoleum and run myself through a quick shower. Images of him flash through my head as the cold water splashes against me, ripping me from the haze of my hopes. I put on my cap and my smile as I trot quickly to the train station.
The day goes by in a blur, all I can think of is him and how we'll never be together. Confession time, I'm gay and I fell for Big Macintosh. If you couldn't already tell, you need to go outside sometime. He's as straight as the rows he plows during planting season. As I refill the coal cars, he shows up. After my shift, we go to the Green Dragon pub for a pint. He gets a dark stout, I just get a gin and tonic. We chat for a bit, and then I pull him out the back after paying for our drinks. He's confused and I take advantage of that. I pull him into a kiss. He punches me in the face and shoves me back. He yells at me, shoves me into the gutter, and goes back in. It's raining again as I stumble home. Crying, I start guzzling gin. My flat starts turning and I collapse on my bed, reeking of gin and filth. I don't care, he rejected me. Nothing matters anymore. I black out as the bottle rolls off the bed and shatters.
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It's my day off and I go visit the clinic. I tell them I've had trouble sleeping, which isn't entirely false. The doctor prescribes me with a strong sleep aid and sends me home. He wants me to come see him in a week for a follow up. Too bad I won't live to see it. The bottle will be finished by tonight. I go home as I set everything up. I fill the bath and down the bottle and the gin. I get in before I black out for the last time.
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Name, Iron Shovel. Gender, Male. Occupation, Coal Shoveler. Cause of death, alcohol poisoning and medication overdose. He was found in his apartment after he failed to show up for work after several days. No next of kin, no special somepony, nopony to tell about his death. He died on Marech 23, 1832 A.D. Nopony claimed his body for burial. He will be buried in the Ponyville cemetery.
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The mortician filed away the death report for Iron Shovel. Too many reports like this one lately. A depressed pony committing suicide, not turning to others for help. It's a sad but real thing. A red stallion came in requesting to see the deceased's body and took it for a funeral. The mortician frowned and gave him the body after the preparations were completed. He was buried in a simple brown coffin with a simple headstone. A smooth, black piece of granite reading,"Here lies Iron Shovel. Lost to the dark too soon. 1793-1832" At the grave, Macintosh wept.
Author's Note
Sorry if it's depressing, just needed to get some feels out.
AD stands for After Discord.
Please leave any suggestions or corrections, please let me know.
This was not editted so constructive criticism is welcome. Hit me with your best shot.
You get two points if you find all the references.
Cheers, Lunyx
