All I Want

by The Weakest Link

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Human, Romance
Length: 1274

A human living in Ponyville makes awkward attempts at courting.

A human living in Ponyville was tired of his own loneliness, and decided to go on a couple of dates.

Dates which did not pan out well for him.

But maybe, in the face of rejection, he might find what he should have been searching for all along…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-18 21:40:01 UTC

If You Were an Ocean, I'd Learn to Float

I had to get in the dating game at some point. Humans aren’t meant to be lonely creatures…although, given recent events, I’d have to revise that:

Beings with sapient levels of intelligence aren’t meant to be lonely creatures, humanoid or no. If you take out all of the things that we ourselves have created as a society, everything artificial in regards to nature, in regards to what makes us what we are on the most basic level, that one rule remains true.

After a month in a world where I had no companionship of the humanoid persuasion, I was forced to branch out. I knew that focusing on their muzzles or their hooves would only discourage me, and, in any case, I have no gauge for physical attractiveness as far as vaguely anthropomorphic horses goes.

Instead, I looked towards personality. Cheesy, yes, but considering my circumstances, pretty much necessary. If I couldn’t love their appearance, I could at least appreciate them as interesting and enthralling people.

The first time, I had Twilight set me up with one of her friends. She seemed all too happy at the prospect of me dating someone she was close to, which seemed to me both encouraging and suspicious.

She asked me what kind of person I fancy. In retrospect, I was a tad vague: I told her that I was looking for someone real. Honest, one could say.

“Ah’m awful sorry, Marshal, but Ah just don’t think this is gonna work. Uh…thanks for the dinner, though. Ah’ll make it up to you the best I can.”

“I…yeah, um…d-don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“Ya sure? Ah don’t-“

“I had a good time. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Ah…g’night, Marshal.”

I let the collection of emotions I felt from that night stew for a few days before going back to Twilight. She was very comforting– to the point where I felt a bit like I was being condescended to – and asked me if I wanted to try again with some other friend of hers. And I thought about it, and deliberated for a few seconds, and finally decided that if another date would potentially lift me from my loneliness, it would be worth the effort.

Well…it could be worth the effort. No guarantee, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I told her that I’d like to date someone nice, someone that had a lot of compassion. Someone kind.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

It was much worse.

Our social awkwardness combined into a gaping void of vocal expression. That date took a shorter time to recover from, but I will be forever haunted by the cringe worthy lengths of silence that took place that afternoon. Even Twilight cringed when I confided in her.

But she told me not to worry as she patted me consolingly on the hand, and that there was one thing that could make me forget all about that.

"A date?"

"A date."

Never one to back down in the face of horribly uncomfortable defeats, except on the many occasions that I had, I once again told Twilight what I was looking for in a girl. I told her that I didn’t want somebody who was always there for those she cared about, someone who was steadfast in her…I suppose the word I’m looking for is loyalty.

“Oh, um, hey, Marshal.”

“Hi…you, ah…you okay there?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s just the stupid dress. It keeps rubbing against my wings…I think I put it on wrong.”

“Well, it looks nice.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t feel too nice.”

“Do you want some time to change? I don’t mind waiting.”

“No, it’s fine, just give me a second…if I could just, ugh, push some feathers out of the way…”

“Here, let me.”

“I, uh…woah!”

Unintentional sexual assault aside, as well as the powerful slap across the face that said unintentional sexual assault incurred, that particular date wasn’t all bad. That is, the person. The venue she chose, that being an aerial race track, was a nightmare on par with the previous date. I don’t even know why she bothered with the dress at all, but if I had to guess, it would be that a certain somebody talked her into it after hearing about the date.

And by hearing, I mean gossiping.

And by a certain somebody, I mean somebody that just so happened to be my next date. Pure happenstance, or a happy coincidence? One door closes, and another opens?

Pure happenstance, definitely.

I went back to Twilight. She was as bolstering as ever, and asked me the same question for the fourth time. It took me longer to think this time, longer than I thought it would take me to search for positive attributes. Twilight was patient, and when I finally answered, she smiled.

Someone who is princely in spirit. Someone who is willing to let their own needs come after needs of those that they love.

Twilight had thought for a moment before posing a question.

"Someone generous?"

"Someone generous," I had confirmed.

“Ah, I’ve got it.”

“Nonsense, darling. You’ve been wonderful this evening. The least I can do is cover the check.”

“I asked you to be here tonight. It’s only right that I foot the bill.”

“While I appreciate you saying so, I must insist-”

“I’ve got it.”

“No, I have it.”

“Let go of the check.”

“You let go of the check.”

I didn’t expect to get slapped on two dates in a row, much less by that particular girl. In retrospect, I probably should have just let it go. On the other hand, maybe I dodged a bullet. Her high class attitude had been getting to me. It sort of feels pleasant to be able to blame someone else on the outcome of a date…in a horrible and selfish way, but still, pleasant.

After that, I was close to giving up. It took me a month to try again, time I primarily used to gripe and contest with my own loneliness. And hang out with Twilight, I suppose. We kept off the subject of dates for a while, but after I was ready to give it another try, Twilight was there, and asked again.

I was running out of ideas. It took me a great long of racking my brain, during which time Twilight was patient in her silence, before I gave a weak answer, an awfully lame answer.

I wanted to date someone who could make me laugh.

“W-Why the cannon?”

“How else are we gonna get all the way up to the trapeze, silly?”

I didn’t talk to Twilight about that date, but the second degree burns seemed to talk for themselves.

She urged me to try again, but I contested that train of thought. When asked why I was so unwilling to try again, I attempted to vocalize my thoughts, but, at the time, felt that my words didn’t do my internal musings any justice.

I told her that I could never find somebody, and I told her why: the person I want to be with doesn’t exist. In my aloneness, I had reassured myself with the thought that I would one day be with someone who would make me happy, and that thought manifested itself into an idea. Not a girl, not a mare, but an idea of a person. Someone honest, someone kind, someone loyal, someone generous, someone funny, someone that can’t and will never exist. Pure fantasy. Otherworldly. Supernatural.

“…Magical?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”