I'm So Tired...

by ThePianoMan

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad
Length: 3217

Celestia has been alive for over a thousand years. But, she's immortal, and she as to keep going, even if it hurts.

I miss the times when I was just the little filly Celestia. Tia, it was a funny little nickname as a child, but a hundred years can ruin anything. The fact of immortality is just that, a fact. It never changes, and it's always the same story. Friends, as well as new friends are always there for me, but that lie only works for the first thousand years. It's getting to my head.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-08 00:40:02 UTC

The Setting Sun

There comes a time when all treasures are lost for good. The cave collapses. The ship is buried deeper beneath the sand. The old castles are rebuilt in the wrong way. All in all, everything has its time and place. Sometimes the time is a problem, whereas space is always flexible. Time is either short, long, or too long. Sometimes, unfortunately, it never ends. The fact of immortality is just that, a fact. It never changes, and it's always the same story. Oh boohoo, I'm sad because all my friends are dead, but there will always be new friends that come around. That was over within the first thousand years of my life. I remember it well. I was very childish then. That was before I realized the reality of who I was. A princess. It was exhilarating in the beginning, but then decades passed. Enough decades passed that friends had already begun to die off. But, through it all, I had to hide the first pains under the facade of Princess Celestia, Guardian and Ruler of the Day.

I miss the times when I was just the little filly Celestia. Tia, it was a funny little nickname as a child, but a hundred years can ruin anything. As I came to the right time, a cycle began. It seemed that many old friends would pass away, one by one, every day. They were so close in the beginning. They were close enough to call me Tia on their deathbed. I learned to hate the nickname. I began asking people to only address me by my full name. But, as Starswirl said, every action has an equal but opposite reaction. When you're dying, you don't use a lot of long words. The title Princess is two syllables shorter than my name; it was just short enough for my dying acquaintances. My own royal title betrayed my emotions. I couldn't stand it after that. It seemed helpless.

My sister Luna was gone already at that time. I banished her to the moon. That's a very nonchalant sentence for me now, so that should give you an idea of how long it's been for me. In that first thousand years though, I had no one. I could do nothing but continue to raise the sun, and now moon for my sister. Can you imagine that? At a time when friends were dying left and right, I then had to banish my own sister from this world. I had no family. Starswirl, our master, was eventually gone as well. I had to rely on myself. I'm not very patient with myself.

My patience was somewhere, but I could never be sure. It bounced back between peace and turmoil. Always in chaos it was, and never certain. A rhythm developed in my mind's attitude. Some days I would be strict and angry while other days I could be nothing but kind. There was one exception. When I saw the poor folk that struggled to survive, I was always loyal to such prospects as generosity. I stayed calm for those pompous fools that claim nobility above others, only to be brutally honest so as to temper their pride with humiliation. And the children, it was always good to laugh alongside them again.

Seeing children was always magical. I could escape my curse, just for a bit, as I saw my younger self in them. I think about it, having a child. I imagine how much relief it would be to raise my own little foal. I could raise a daughter into becoming a loving and nurturing mare. I could raise a son to be a most well mannered and respectful stallion. I think about it. But, my position makes it difficult to ever find someone to raise that would be child with. The aristocrats see me as a device of power, and anyone else is turned away in some fear, whether it be carnal or formal. Again my own royal title has betrayed me. I could not adopt, for the uproar from the nobles would be too great for any child to endure. The political unrest over a simple orphan being brought into royalty would surely end in tragedy. I had only one action left to come close to being a parent.

Hundreds of years would pass. But in time, I settled on accepting a personal student. I had interviewed a number of orphanages to ask if they possessed any gifted children. I eventually accepted a young unicorn filly by the name of Sunset Shimmer to come under my tutelage. I guided her and taught her as much as she was willing to learn. And, she was always willing to learn. Sadly I had made one mistake. I had grown attached to her. My deepest maternal instincts crept past my control over my emotions when I told Sunset that I would have been proud to be her mother. It had gotten to her head further than I had anticipated. She became ambitious and felt an entitlement far from humble. She ran away, disappeared even,I was left alone.

I settled again to continue teaching, but mostly to escape the grief. So I buried the idea of motherhood, and settled on being the teacher. It's sad how plans we made in the past can be easily forgotten. I was lucky enough to even get close. My next student was a promising unicorn by the name of Twilight Sparkle. I guided her with more success, but the connection was not the same. I never told her that, though. I treated her how she needed to be treated, rather than how I wanted her treated. For once, a sense of peace came from this student.

Twilight had saved my sister. With help from her friends, she had rescued one of our greatest enemies from the path of darkness and brought him to the light. She endured trials upon trials until one day, she became an alicorn like myself. She earned royalty though the power of friendship, a ideal I shamefully but quietly covet. Twilight was a beacon of hope as the new Princess of Friendship. It came as a great solace to know that I had done something right in my life. I don't pay attention to anything else.

Royal duties are simply my job. I don't do it because I want do. I don't abandon the task when I know I could any time I want to. I just do it. Whether it's some sort of obligation or conscience based decision, I'm not sure, I just do it. It's usually a mundane task, but I've found ways of making it interesting. I may be guilty of pulling a multitude of practical jokes. The political figures are the best. It easy to prank a walking joke. Sometimes I can't help but pity them. They don't understand. It's different from their perspective. They're not going to live forever so they try to take control of their lives. Anything that disturbs their expectations or plans just triggers some emotional wreck that they so easily hide with a mask. It's quite funny. It lightens my day to see the reactions from the victims of my small pranks. They understand that their world is not entirely in their control. If they wish to be cross about it, that's on them. If they join in the joy of a good practical joke, share a few laughs even, then I know they understand me. Even though it is some tiny connection, it always good to be seen in that way. It's been too long of a while since I've shared a laugh.

Laughing. Oh, I wish it could have lasted longer. It's a lot like gravity if you care for examples. You can toss an apple in the air, it appears to be flying for a few seconds, and it eventually falls back down. There's unwritten laws to the universe that even I can't escape. Immortality, I didn't ask for it. It just came like a child with a hereditary disease. The parents sacrifice everything they have to give that child hope, and they give up everything because they love their child. Their choices affect that child in a way neither could have predicted. Every choice is made. It's the one thing we're all entitled to, choices. The is no fate; there's only the world you're born into. Agency is our ability to choose. It comes free.

I choose every day, for as long as I can to keep moving. I did make it through the first thousand years of my life, but more was to come. I never thought that things could have taken a turn for the worst. I had suffered so long in the beginning. I had hoped that Twilight would have been another sign, for myself, that many good things were to come, just around the corner. My luck had never been the best when it had to do with me on a personal level. I'm sorry, just in advance.

I apologize to everyone. It's a nervous tick, some old doctor told me, everyone gets it. I wondered then if anyone else was apologizing for some past mistake that they're still trying to forget. Doesn't matter in the end I suppose, but life will always be life. It's precious to us. We cherish life of all kinds. Sometimes, life hits us too hard to earn its tender mercies. Second chances only last for so long until we have to keep moving. Looking down any road and deciding to keep walking is never easy.

My time at the rest stop had come to the end. The valley of unrest has been calling my name as it always does. The western sun is always setting. I control it, but I can never catch it. I chase the sun I set, but it never works. It never ends. That prospect of time never changes. Just as much as I despise the falling of apples, the bruises never cease. A double bladed knife falls between pendulum and balance. A choice between pains become themselves.

The weddings I've seen. They're precious dreams of the cure. The doves, the families, the wedded, and the bouquet always attached some vision of importance to my soul. It's funny that so many nowadays will shun marriage as a qualified law that justifies love. It's more than just that. It's a promise, at least it started as that, for each other's companionship to endure. It hurts to feel words of hate and misunderstanding slay the merry married. I am always asked why I have never thought to marry. I dare not speak the offense, less I should be seen cruel as a result of misunderstanding. But, a truth I can speak so easily now, was not always so steadfast or bold. Long ago, it would have been hidden by the pressures and scornful eyes of unjust hecklers. Everyone stopped caring about marriage because no one ever had the chance to be deprived of it. I've never caught that bouquet.

I remember watching the last of the faithful friends of my student. Their bouquet's and their dresses have all withered away into marble memories market by lives that could have done so much more with my years. I detest death and it's aftermath. It's always been nothing but trouble. When you're not suffering a loss, you mercilessly judge those that are. You're so easily quick to judge that you never considered that pain is a different experience for all of us. Not everyone has the same tolerances that you have, neither are the blessed with your advantages. Emotions are not to be trifled with, especially not the emotions of one such as I.

None but I have seen the horrors of time that ravage the world. It's astonishing, it's powerful, overwhelming, and murderous. It's never ending. Oh how it hurts the soul to comprehend such a concept as the victory of time over life. How prosperous the victims of time must be, as notion of this curses and plagues me. Older I get, but my face never changes. It's the same.

Why am I the same? Why do I keep living as I creep up on the second millennium of my life? I can't stand it. No more! I never asked for any of this as far as I know. If in some premortal realm, I asked for this, it comes as my own fault. Why should such a choice be made? Is it not enough that the choice for others to be willing to be born and die is made by so many? And, here I am suffering, not from death but from life. I'd rather live a happy short life than endure a long miserable one. My age has settled on my body like dust. It weighs me down, though I never show it. I'm sure the day will come when the last speck of dust on my soul will break my back. I've lived so long, my friends, I've forgotten the names now. So many regrets. I never could be a mother. It all fades away against my will. I can't stop it. I'm so tired…

Have you ever smothered your face with a pillow and try to see how long you can hold your breath? It’s interesting, for me anyway. I’ve wondered how far I could push that limit. There’s that moment when you realize you can go no further and you have to sit up so as to gasp for breath. Suffixation is painful and not for me. I couldn’t see myself doing it. The tingling feeling under my skin would drive me insane. I pondered this sometimes over a nice warm bath. I lower myself under the water, just so that my nose can still take in air. But then, I hold my breath and lower myself so that only my eyes are above the water. It was so peaceful. I could see my mane flowing in a different performance under the water. It was hypnotic enough that I actually choked on the water. The pain was such a tease to my senses and my mind. Drowning was even worse to think about. Having water fill my lungs was a less desirable demise. Demise was a good thought for some strange reason.

Thinking about it, is bizarre. There’s so many ways to die. I’ve seen all sorts of death in the years that I’ve endured. The death that’s always eluded me was old age. I’ve surprisingly never witnessed anyone die from old age. That reason isn’t quite clear, but peace has something to do with it. I’ve been in the same room as the dying old, yet I’ve never seen it. They always go gentle into the night. That must speak something significant about the people I associate with. I surround myself with those that suffer not from regret. It makes me feel better in some way. It hurts my head to think of such things. It needed to stop hurting, somehow.

I have heard conversations from various doctors about a moment of instantaneous death. Blunt force trauma, under the right circumstances, acted as an instant death. I could see that. I understood it. One quick, sharp pain to end all headaches. Does it matter if it's messy? I should think not. Is it wrong to indulge in a little selfishness when it is so little a task that can easily be compensated for? I care not for this existence. I can endure it no more. Is it wrong to believe that ends must come eventually? You don't understand. No one could ever understand the implications of immortality.

I've watched empires and kingdoms rise up only to fall into nothingness. I've seen the unmentionable darkness. I have seen colors of time you can not even comprehend. You claim it to be so easy to use up hundreds upon hundreds of years, and yet you have never practiced that torturous act yourself. You aren't the same. You're not me. You're not ever going to understand. I can't say anymore. There's no words to describe such an event. In the beginning of my life, there was a word, and the word was pain. I've come to realize the full extent of the word. It's been growing with every year that passes.

I've lived for too long...

I knew exactly what I was going to do. There was this perfect spot at the edge of Canterlot. The view was unbeatable. You could see the lights of towns stretch for as far as my eyes could see. But looking down, you can see the furthest drop. It was high enough to fall into being nothing. My wings were the only problem.

It's a basic instinct, for anything with wings, to fly away from danger. You can't fly without wings, but it is unpleasant to be without something you've been accustomed to all your life. The solution is clear. I'll simply disable them. Merchants used these large leather straps to tie down packages and boxes so that they can arrive safely to their destination. I was ready.

The spot was cold. Good. It beats the enduring heat of the day. I had made all the proper preparations. The strap was fastened tightly so that there was no chance of my wings escape. It was a comfortable pain. The embrace of demise, it wasn't bad, neither was it any better, but there's something important about it. It's closure. It's better than having nothing.

I step out onto the ledge. The wind beats back against me. I watch as I set the sun for the last time through these eyes. Creeping slowly into the goodnight, it waves goodbye as I ready myself. The last sliver gasps for breath as I let go. I am falling as the last ray of light caresses my content face. I can't tell if I'm crying. The wind could just be making my eyes water. Tears of sadness or not, they exist. The sun is gone, and now the moon of the night reigns in its absence. The ground is getting closer. But, something is glowing.

Perhaps the sunlight isn't completely gone. Maybe I'm mistaken. Eyes watch me fall. I'm still falling. I imagine falling up. There, I see the past I've lost. My family, friends, they're all there among the stars. I'm looking for them in the constellations. They're escaping me. I can't control anything now. That's it!

I have no control. I've always had control over my life up until the point when I left the cliff. Is this the peace I've been missing? Those eyes they're chasing after me. This is how it is to live rather than survive. The eyes, are trying to catch me. For this moment, I live as any other, and I've come to acceptance with demise and not being able to control it. The fire of the eyes, the desperation of the light! I'm content with my life being free from immorality in an outcome uncertain. The arms of the eyes reach. Whether I die or the eyes catch me, I cannot control it. But that's okay. Either outcome will suffice.

TO BE CONTINUED