Gone. Completely changed. Not in body... but in mind. Honestly, I can't figure out which is worse... knowing that he can't come back... or knowing that he can, but won't come back...
I remember how proud he was when I used to succeed at something, especially if I had been struggling before... I remember how I would fail every time, but he would always be there to help me back up. And when I succeeded, we would go and celebrate, just me and him... and he would call me his tough little cookie.
It is all I have of him, these memories... memories of fun, and memories of happiness... I cling to them like I would cling to a lifeline, for that is what they are. They are my tether to sanity, to hope, to every dream I've ever had. Without them, I would be nothing.
I remember how he used to say to me,
"Come, my tough little cookie. You must be patient, and work hard for your dreams... you must not force things to do what they refuse to do, but you must still work at it. Little by little, bit by bit, your dreams coming to life before your eyes... not caused by the work of a pained fairy looking to spare others her fate, or a shooting star falling from its place in the sky, or a lost, drifting eyelash.
But above all... you must never give up. Never. Even if it takes an eternity of work, of patience, you must never give up. After all, how can you win a race you stopped running in?"
I never gave up on him, and I never will. It is all I can do, for he is nothing but a memory long past. But each day I wait patiently for my beloved father to return, clinging tightly to my optimism. And each day my hopes are shattered, my heart cracked. For each day, I see a husk. A body empty of what he once was.
***
I remember how his eyes would twinkle like the night sky when we discovered something new. He would pick me up and spin around, laughing and whooping with excitement the whole time, my high pitched giggling making for a beautiful harmony of happiness. We would spend the rest of the day reveling in the feeling of satisfaction, of a successful mission. And once the excitement had worn off and I began nodding off, he would carry me to my bed and tuck me in. And every night he would hum a little tune for me, a tune that my mother used to sing.
פרפר, פרפר, פרח חיי, רדנה מהר, שב אליי. לה -לה לה, לה לה לה
And when he he had gone to his own room to sleep, I would sing the song back to him.
Butterfly, butterfly, living flower o' mine, fall quickly to sleep, rest with me
And in his dreams he would watch over me, and I would watch over him. He would be brave, and I would be brave, and we were both happy.
***
Ponies always say that my eyes are my most beautiful physical feature. They say that they seem to sparkle with a wisdom beyond my age, and that the lights seem to reflect deeper than just the outside. My eyes weren't always like that... but they don't know that. I've always believed that eyes reflect the soul, and my father's and mine seem to be the case. His used to be electric blue, always sparkling with glee. Now, they are a dull brown, never lighting up with joy like they used to. Mine had been a bright purple, shining like amethysts, gleaming with childlike innocence. Now... now they have been muted to a grayish shade, the happy innocence reflected in them dissolved by the reality of a cruel world.
***
Rainbow Dash sort of reminds me of this father of mine... tey are both charismatic, always grinning, both loyal. Except... Rainbow Dash doesn't leave her friends hanging. My father left me alone in the dark, waiting for eternity to end.
***
This coward is not my father. Yes, he looks like him, but he is not. My father wouldn't submit to her will so easily. He wouldn't be afraid to stand up for me. He would be there for me, helping me back up when I fall, calling me his tough little cookie. He would teach me to be strong and helpful. He would be teaching me to be patient, to wait until the end of eternity, to never give up. He would teach me to be loyal, and kind and generous. He would teach me to laugh and to be generous and he would teach me everything I knew. But most of all, he would teach me to love, and to be loved in return. He would teach me to protect those closest to my heart, just as he always did for me. He wouldn't be putting me down for her sake. He wouldn't stand down and let her hurt me. He would protect me... but he isn't here. This isn't my father.
***
I remember my father. He was strong. He would protect me at the cost of everything else, as long as I was happy. He used to love me. And we were both happy. The two of us, just me and him, off gallivanting in ab little adventure. Life was simple, and life was kind back then, in my world of sunshine and friendship. Back in the world with my true father, there was no pain, no cruelty, no hostility. There was only kindness, all flowing from the purest of hearts. His heart was full of kindness and cheer, so much that he could spare very much to share with the others.
***
But there was one flaw to him, one puddle of ink on the clean slate of his personality. He would never be able to keep a promise. No matter what, he would not fulfill his promises.
***
I don't know why I believed him when he promised to me, despite knowing that he would never keep it. I was a fool. He promised he would always protect me, but he has broken the promise. He has betrayed my trust yet again, and yet again it has hurt me. But this time it worse than ever. My heart had not been cracked. It had been shattered, a spiderweb of fractures spreading along it's surface, reaching for the fragile warmth within its cold, hard surface. He has abondoned me, and all we stood for. He is not being strong. He is not standing up for himself, or for those he holds dear. He has given up. He thinks there is nothing he can do, despite saying that there is always hope to be found in the churning sea of pessimism threatening to drag you down.
***
There is nothing more to do. I have done all I could. Now, all that's left is to wait... be patient and remember all he was. Stay strong. Don't fall. I can never fall, for falling is weakness. He wouldn't want me to be weak. So I will not crumble under the pressure. Neither shall my mask of false happiness. I will wait alone in the hidden dark, helping others to the light, teaching them, guiding them, as he would for me. I will be strong. The dark will never scare me away... though it would be really nice to... to have a friend here... or maybe someone to protect me...
***
The fear in the darkness is too much to bear sometimes, but I must be strong. No matter how much he hates me, I will always love him, and I will always wait for him. Patiently, until the end of the world, never giving up and always staying strong. There is nothing left to do.
***
To this day, I have never figured out what brought upon this change. Actually, I have one possible cause. But I don't think it would ever happen. My father would never hate me... at least, I don't think so...
But if he didn't hate me, why would he do this to me? Why would he leave me to suffer alone in the depths of the darkeness, alone to face my fears? Does he no longer love me?
It is the only possible reason.
***
Therefore, to my father, wherever you are, please know. Please know that I am being patient and working hard for you. I am not forcing you to come back, but I am still working at it. Little by little, bit by bit, my hopes coming to life before my eyes. Not caused by the work of a pained fairy looking to spare others her fate, or a shooting star falling from it's place in the sky, or a lost, drifting eyelash.
But above all, I have never given up, and I never will. Even if it takes an eternity of work, of patience, I will never give up. After all, how can I win a race I stopped running in?
***
Yet still, my father is gone. This empty husk of a stallion is not my father. He may pretend so, he may say so, but he is not my father. And he shall never replace my father, either. When my father returns, I shall be here, waiting patiently, never giving up, staying strong in the darkness of my fears. I will be alone, waiting for my father, waiting to guide him back to the light, waiting for him to call me his tough little cookie.
Please Father... please come back to me... please come back to your tough little cookie...
Here, I shall wait. This is my resting spot for all of eternity, or until my father returns. Not him... he is not my father. He is a fake, a husk, empty of his soul. So here I shall wait for all eternity, or until my father returns to me. Whichever comes first. But while I wait, I have something to do. I shall guide the other lost souls to the light, so that they do not have to suffer the same fate as I do. I shall introduce them to the sunshine, warmth, and happiness of friendship, of family and I shall guide them back. They will not be lost forever, not with me to guide them. But I cannot leave. To leave would mean to be to abandon my father as he abandoned me. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. And when he comes back, I'll be the first to cheer in delight, shout in glee, and give him a big hug. And then we'll talk about everything that happened while he was gone, and we'llboth be happy again. And... I can't find my way out...
***
Here I will wait, for all of eternity. And when my father comes back, I'll be able to tell him that I was patient and never gave up on me. And then he'll congratulate me and we'll go celebrate... but the only thing I'd need to be happy was him... and my nickname. Tough little cookie. I've always loved that nickname he gave me. It made me proud when he used it. It always cheered me up, and motivated me to keep on trying... but I haven't heard it in... in so long... but still, I will wait, for all of eternity, if that is what it takes.
***
Here, I will wait for all of eternity, in the infinite darkness. Infinite for me, that is. Others can be guided to the light. But every so often there is a pony stuck in the never ending shadow, unable to find its way to the bright. Just like a feather carried away from the wing of a bird by the turbulent winds of a storm... and just like me.
***
Here, I will wait for all of eternity, comforted only by my memories and motivated only by the lessons he had taught me. In the darkness I whisper to the nothingness, and the nothingness replies with an echo.
Someday
Someday, my father will return to me. Someday, he will lead me out of the infinite darkness. I will be happy, for I will know he loves me. He will see that I remembered his lessons, and waited patiently, never giving up, stayig strong forever. He will call me his tough little cookie, and once more he will pick me up, spinning around, laughing and whooping with glee. We'll have our adventures together again, and each day, when the sun has set, the moon has risen, and the stars have begun to twinkle, he will tuck me into my bed and hum a lullaby to me, the same one my mother used to sing. And once he has gone to his bed to sleep, I will sig it back to him. And he will protect me from my nightmares, and I shall protect him from his, and together we will be happy.
***
Here, I will wait. I will wait for my father, the kindest stallion that ever lived. I will wait for my best friend, and my favorite teacher. I shall wait for his pure soul to return, and until then, I will stay strong. None shall know, and none shall guess, for I am staying strong, with a mask of even greater strength. It shall not crumble under the pressure, and neither shall I, for we are strong. Alone in the dark I shall remain, but I will be comforted by memories of him... of my father.
Guide me to the light. That is all I ask of you. One simple task... come back, and guide me to the light. I am not sure whether you will hear my plea, but still, I beg of you, come back, and guide me to the bright light.
***
I plead, I beg, but still, you do not return. You do not come to guide me back to the light, and I am lost, stuck in the dark, wandering alone, for now, and forever. But still, I wait for you. You, who taught me to wait patiently. You, who taught me to be strong. You, who taught me that, above all, I should never ever give up. You taught me things I wouldn't know otherwise. You taught me to be a better pony. You taught me to be kinder, more generous and more honest. You taught me to be loyal, to laugh, and you had taught me everything I ever knew.
***
Guide me to the light, and laugh away the shadows. I am too tired to laugh, too weary to cry. I want to weep in agony, but I must be strong. I want to laugh away the dark, but I am too tired to laugh. I want to do many things, but I am too weary. My hooves drag, my eyelids droop, and my mouth turns down. But then I catch myself, and strengthen my mask. Strength. I must be strong. And once again, I am giggling, wide eyed, my lips curved in a mischievous grin. But on the inside, I am sobbing, my heart fracturing into yet another uncountable and uncaring piece of a broken dream.
***
In the distance, I see a warm light. It pulses with its bright glow, but seems to be getting closer and brighter with every beat of its heart. Soon, it is close enough to blind me, and consume my consciousness.
***
Father!! Thank you, thank you!! You don't understand how happy I am to see your sprakling blue eyes, but probably just as happy as you are to see my gleaming purple ones. I have missed you so so much, and now you are finally here. Thank you, my father, for returning to me. Thank you for guiding me to the light. But most of all, thank you for returning to me, to your tough little cookie. I had been patient and worked hard for you. I had not forced you to come back, but I had still worked at it. Little by little, bit by bit, my hopes coming to life before my eyes. Not caused by the work of a pained fairy looking to spare others her fate, or a shooting star falling from it's place in the sky, or a lost, drifting eyelash.
But above all, I had never given up, and I never will. Even if it could have taken an eternity of work, of patience, I whad never given up on you. After all, how could I win a race I stopped running in?
I have been waiting patiently for you, never giving up. I have been strong for you, and--
I am awoken by the pale, harsh light of my world's sun... and the harsh sting of reality. It was a dream... nothing but my wishes regurgitated by my mind into an illusion. It would be better to have no dreams at all... to just fall into a silent, blissful sleep, more of a void than the one I live in. Even a nightmare would be better... at least I would wake up and find that it was nothing. With this, I am awoken by a slap from the truth.
My father is gone.
So hear my plea one last time, father, and know that I will always wait... but I will still be alone in the dark... I will stay strong, but for the others that need me to guide them to the light. I will never give up on you, but I have no more expectations. I do not expect you to come back. And so, one last time, I plead...
Please Father... please come back to me... please come back to your tough little cookie...
