Arabesque
My dear, I hope you forgive me, but I couldn't find a better way to start this letter, you know, I'm really not good with words.
I can feel the sun rising, as the cloudy night sky slowly turns into a watery lavender painting. I know, I know... I was supposed to be asleep now, hidden under my bed sheets, my head serenely resting against my pillows, as I breathe slowly and quietly. I sincerely wish I could do that.
I wish life could offer me an escape from this dream.
You are the only one capable of giving relief to my troubled mind, sometimes I just want to chat, sometimes I wish you would want to talk to me, just as much as I want to talk to you; but you are always somewhere else, inaccessible.
Three days ago I found your picture over the fireplace. It was all covered in a thick layer of dust, you'd definitely kill me for not cleaning the house properly. I saw your face through the glass, your violet eyes. Memories came flashing like a movie, suddenly you were by my side on a dull concrete shoreline. I still remember that day, you were the color of the scene, you were the sun reflected in the tiny droplets of water splashing against the stone.
Fleur, I miss your hooves.
I miss our walks around Canterlot, your crazes, your passions. I miss following your steps - pretending to be bored - as you walked into every single shop, and boutique of the city; asking my opinion about dozens of dresses, scarfs, hoof-shoes. I'd buy everything anyway.
You looked so great in that red dress. An interesting thought... I never thought a unicorn could look beautiful in a dress, but you looked - you looked so wonderful in your own skin. Fleur, you're like a painting from the renaissance, and the pinkish strands of your mane give you the perfect frame. I feel so silly writing down these feelings, but I think the smallest things - the silliest details - are the most important ones, because they make us real.
And here I am, drawing arabesques on the paper, only to say I miss you. Without you my life is empty, but I can also be free. It's unfair, because I never asked for freedom, and now I find myself drowning in the truth in such a painful way. Do I want to be a free man?
I'm not sure.
Before I started to write, I burned. I've burned all your pictures, all your books, all your clothes. Our library is burning right now, and I can hear the sirens down the street. I wish I could burn together with you, but I'm a coward. I'm sitting in this filthy chair in a lousy corner of Canterlot, writing this letter, because I'm not the man for you.
I don't deserve you, my dear.
There's a shadow running through my days, and I can't find my candles. You're a beautiful mare Fleur, you deserve to smile. To shine. I can see the flames consuming our house now. It is a melancholic sight to say at least, and for the first time in my life I feel... I feel happy for not having you by my side, to share this ruin.
The birds have started to chirp again, and life goes on. My bloodshot eyes are easily spotted by passersby, but I can't say I feel ashamed. I'll soon walk back to our ashes, as the first daylight hit the polished marble tiles of the street. Yes, I'll take one last look around, and then I'm leaving.
Fleur, I'm leaving Equestria. I'm going back to the place I come from. Earth is not an enchanted world, but I must have a place to belong. Of course, there will always be a place under the sun for ponies like you.
To be honest, I do not expect you to forgive me. We have the same flaws after all. It's hard to forgive when we know everything about each other.
Maybe someday, in one of those chance encounters, we'll meet again. Victims of happenstance, we'll exchange glances, maybe sit down in a cafe to talk, trying to find a reason.
Or maybe not...
After so many years... after all those plans, all those dreams, after all the sleepless nights waiting in vain... I just want you to be happy, to live your fantastic life, to shine.
Without me. Please my dear, don't look for me; I no longer wish to look for you.
I love you more than you can imagine, and we've lived in a marvelous story... but like all good stories, unfortunately this one must too come to an end.
Goodbye Fleur de Lis.
"Hello Adam, how are you feeling today?" She opened the door, her white uniform matching with the pure and immaculate whiteness of the room. The nurse carried a silvery tray - A small glass of water was delicately handed to me, followed by a translucent pill. I took the pill, and returned the glass empty.
She smiled.
"I... I f-finished my letter" I muttered, pointing to the sheet of paper resting over the nightstand. "Could you give it to her?" I asked, my hands sweating.
"Of course, Adam..." The nurse said, writting something down on her clipboard, and then picking up the letter. It was always the same thing, they always promised me the same thing.
I just wanted to talk to her personally, but the doctors wouldn't let me do so. I liked them, though. They treat me very well here.
"Thank you. I'm feeling much better now." I smiled, resting against the pillow again and sighing. "I'll talk to Dr. Michael today"
"Your family will be happy to know that." The nurse stated, tenderly folding the letter, and keeping it in a pocket. She was very nice to me. "As will Dr. Michael."
Everyone was gentle here in the psychiatric ward. If I ever find Fleur again, I'll tell her about how nice they are...
Author's Note
“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”
